For Sale
by gnrkrystle
Summary: Katniss and Peeta have survived the 74th Hunger Games, but the torture is far from over. Rebellion must always be punished. Rated M for later adult content and language.
1. Victors

**For Sale**

* * *

**A/N: This is my first Hunger Games fanfiction. The idea came to me when I was reading another fanfiction story about Katniss being used in the same fashion Finnick is used after his Games. I kept turning over this idea in my head until I felt like I had to write it.**

**For my Harry Potter Fans, if you like Hunger Games, give it a go. If not, I understand. I'll be getting back into my usual Dramione stories soon. :)**

**Final note: The story will utilize plot points from all three books, but it will take liberty with timelines and plot. Don't expect things to happen just like they did in the books. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: **Nope. I don't own the Hunger Games or any recognizable characters or plots. I'm simply playing with them.

* * *

**Victors  
**_  
Peeta looks up at me an I see the anguish in his eyes. "You need to go home, Katniss," he says, his resolve iron-clad. _

_"No!" I cry, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. Seconds ago, I was sure Peeta and I would be going home to District 12, and now - now, it can only be one of us. If I kill him, I resign myself to a life of misery, regret, and self loathing. If I die, Prim is as good as dead too. How long can Gale possibly support two more people without any income? _

_"Katniss, you have to," Peeta cries, and I can see the tears welling in his eyes as he moves closer. "They need you. No one needs me." _

_"I do," I say, my voice broken, and this is not for the games. This is for me. Just me. Just him. I don't know how to explain it, but he means so much to me in just a short amount of time. _

_He smiles sadly at me and pulls me close, kissing my cheek. "You'll be fine," he assures me, and I want to scream at him, but the words are lodged in my throat. "Here," he says again, running a shaking hand down my side until he reaches into my left pocket. _

_"Peeta, don't," I plead. "We can figure something out." _

_"They need their victor," he says, his fingers wrapped around a small purple berry. _The Nightlock_. "Just tell my Father and brothers, I love them." _

_"Peeta, no!" I cry, but he ignores me, downing the berry in one swallow. HIs lifeless body hits the ground immediately, and all I can do is collapse atop him my body wracked with sobs. _

"PEETA!" I cry, shooting straight up in bed. My breath is coming out in pants and I can feel my heart racing.

Shaking my head to clear the fog, I look around. I'm in the Capitol train. I'm safe. I'm going home. And so is Peeta. I sigh with relief when I realize it was just another nightmare. Peeta is safe. We both are. For the first time in Hunger Game history there are two victors.

Flipping the warm covers off my body, I stumble out of bed and open my cabin door. I can't sleep. Not after that. The train is silent, and the clock above the lounge couch reads 3:00am. I go further, down to the dining car, which is stocked all hours of the day. What my friends and family back home wouldn't give for constant access to food. Even with the piles of money I'll now have on arrival, District 12 is reality. It's far removed from the mentality of the Capitol that has never wanted for anything. Even if I _could_ live in excess, I'd never do that in front of my people.

I quickly make my favorite Capitol drink, a hot chocolate, and move back to the lounge to settle on one of the decadent couches. I'm certain Effie would have a heart attack if she could see me consuming food in a room other than the dining car, but I really don't care at this point.

My head is full of all kinds of thoughts and worries. When I go home, what will change? What will be the same? What will happen between me and Peeta? It was never clear what was real and what wasn't between us. I feel certain he at least cares enough for me that he's paid attention to me throughout the years. He knew so many things - things I barely remember. But at the end of the day, it was a strategy. One that I realize now, was all to get _me_ home alive. He never intended on living. That, I'm sure of. How can this boy, only a few months older than me, be so selfless?

Then there are my feelings for him. I've never had romantic feelings for anyone. When you are starving to death, you really don't cultivate a taste for romantic day dreams. I've spent the better part of my life hunting alone with Gale who is, arguably, a very attractive young man. Never once did I consider this an important fact. And yet, when I was faced with imminent death, I _did_ feel something for Peeta. What? I don't know. It's not something I can define, but the thought of him dying made my heart plummet to my stomach. He's become so important to me, but I have no idea what it all means.

"Couldn't sleep?" I startle slightly as the object of my thoughts pads into the lounge and takes a seat on the couch next to me.

"No," I admit, sipping my drink. "Nightmares."

"Me too," he says. There is a long pause as both of us study each other before he speaks again.

"So, what do you think will happen when we get home?" he asks, and I at least feel better than I'm not the only one worried about that.

"I guess we try to move on," I say with a shrug. "What else can we do?"

"I mean between us," he finally says, his eyes trained on mine, and I'm caught off guard. He deals with things, especially emotional things so straight forwardly. I'm not used to it, nor do I know how to respond.

"Us?" I ask, biting my lip.

He shifts uncomfortably - the first sign that he's not as confident as he appears - but he presses on. "In the arena, you said," he swallows and my brow furrows. "You said that you didn't want to go home without me."

"That was the arena, Peeta. I was trying to save our lives," I point out, but the hurt look on his face makes me want to take back my words immediately. He looks like a kicked puppy, and I try desperately to think of what I should say to explain what I really mean. It's true, I _was _trying to save our lives. I didn't put much thought into how I might have really meant what I said too.

"I see," he says finally. "So, everything, it was all for the cameras? For the Games?"

"Well, no. I -" I have no idea what to say. It _was_ for the games, but not all of it. Not that last real kiss. That one I wanted. That one made me feel things deep inside me that I didn't even know existed.

"You what?" Peeta spits out, and I can see his hurt is starting to turn to anger. I feel helpless. I have no idea how to express myself on a good day, let alone under such confusing circumstances.

"I don't know what to say," I reply, defeated.

I see him go through several emotions before my eyes until he finally seems to settle on acceptance. "I see," he says after several moments silence. "It was real for me, Katniss. All of it."

I open my mouth to speak but he's up and gone before the words can pass my lips. Sighing, I look out the window at the barren countryside. _Fuck_.

* * *

Peeta doesn't speak to me for the rest of the trip, which luckily is finally over. At this point I just want to go home, move into my new house, take a shower, and go to bed. For a week.

"You're a couple in love," Haymitch growls to my left. "It wouldn't kill the two of you to act like it."

I turn to Peeta warily, but he pastes a smile on his face and takes my hand in his preparing for our descent from the train. Capitol reporters are there, and I can't help but wonder if they are at all affected by the desperate state of some of the people in my home district. Or do they even care at all?

I shake the thought from my head and smile for the cameras like a good girl. Just twenty more minutes and I'm free.

It would have been torture without Peeta. He says all the right things and holds my hand, tight and steady, stabilizing me against the flashing cameras and the District 12 crowd that has assembled, bewildered by the Capitol reporters who look almost inhuman to them. I understand.

We push through and Peeta's hand leaves mine, only for me to be swept into my mother's arms. She hasn't really hugged me in years, and can feel her shaking and I smile at her. "I'm home," I say lamely. My hope is that I can repair our relationship. Life is too short for grudges. This is a lesson I'll never forget.

I lose track of Peeta in the sea of blond hair that is his family, but I know we'll see each other soon enough. We are neighbors now, after all.

"Katniss!" I hear Prim's shriek and I turn to find her running toward me, her hair braided like mine on reaping day.

"Prim!" I cry back, opening my arms to accept her as she runs to me, and I lift her to me. The Capitol reporters go wild. I don't care. "I missed you, Little Duck!" I said, looking her over as if she was the one to have spend weeks in a death trap.

"I'm so glad you came home," my little sister cries.

"I'm not going anywhere now," I promise her, kissing her cheek as we walk arm in arm toward the Victor's Village. Until I'm intercepted again. Gale.

"Catnip!" He calls, his face brightening with a smile I've never seen from him before.

"Gale!" I smile in return, letting him wrap me in his strong arms and I breathe him in. He smells like the woods. He smells like him.

"I told you you could make it," he says.

"How's the family?" I ask.

"Fine. We've been helping your mother and Prim move into the new house. You won't believe how big it is," Gale say. I have him on one side and Prim on the other and for the first time in weeks I'm starting to feel like me again. I sigh with relief.

I look over my shoulder and see Peeta watching me. His eyes holding some conflicted emotion. Once I catch him, though, he averts his eyes. Smiling at something his father is saying, but I know he's not really listening. I realize I know Peeta pretty well by now.

* * *

It takes about an hour before I'm feeling suffocated. The Capitol people are gone, but the house is still full. Gale is right. It's huge. But, to my happy surprise, it's tastefully decorated. I had been worried the walls would be various shades of neon given what I saw in the Capitol. Instead, it's finely furnished, but not over the top. And I suppose my mother and Prim can do what they want with the place. I could care less.

Visitors have been coming and going for some time, and I need some air. I don't mean to be ungrateful. I know that many citizens of my precious district sacrificed and skimped to send money to the Capitol for me. While it might not have even paid for half a loaf of bread, it will never be forgotten. But the walls are closing in on me and I need to get out.

My mother is playing hostess just fine on her own when I sneak out the front door and settle on the rocking chair on the side of the house. Peeta's house seems to be buzzing as well. I wonder what he's doing. I feel so on edge about him. Clearly he thinks I've led him on, and maybe I have. But how can I explain that I never meant to, and that I'm not oblivious to him. I just don't know what I feel. Or if it matters that I feel anything. Love and the like are useless emotions. Besides, I'm never getting married or having children. Peeta is absolutely made for the role of husband and father. Isn't it better just to let the feelings run their course? For his sake if no one else's?

I hear laughter coming from the Mellark house as the front door opens and Peeta steps outside. I smile at him before I can stop myself. Surprisingly he smiles in return and walks over to me, leaning against the porch rail in front of me.

"Too much?" he asks, and I know he's feeling the same thing I am. Overwhelmed.

"Yes," I admit. "I think the guests will be leaving soon though."

"Mine too," Peeta says. "Then it will be silent."

"I highly doubt it will be silent with your brothers in the house," I laugh.

"Oh, they aren't living with me," Peeta says, looking at his feet.

"What?" I ask, confused. Families always live with the victors. Except Haymitch, but that's only because his family died not long after his Games.

"It's too far from the bakery. They don't want to live this far out," he say. I'm shocked. I wonder if he's upset by this. I can't imagine my mother or Prim choosing not to live with me. Then again, we are a different family than the Mellarks. His mother...Well, let's just say he might be relieved not to live under the same roof as that horrible woman.

"Are you okay with that?" I finally ask.

"Actually, yes. I need time to adjust. They can be...suffocating," Peeta explained.

I nod. I understand. I'm just glad Prim and mother have never been intrusive. There is a lull in conversation and I feel the need to say something. Things are too strained between us, and I hate it. I might not know much, but I know I want Peeta in my life. "Peeta, about the last night on the train..." I begin, he shakes his head at me.

"You don't have to explain. You never really lied to me. I should have had the guts to tell you before we ever went into the stupid arena. I should have told you the night on the roof that everything I said in that interview was true. I should have let you know that it was real for me. It's not fair for me to blame you for saving us. You didn't know, and you didn't lie to me. Not really," Peeta explains.

I gulp slightly. He's so reasonable. He's so forgiving. Who in the world could deserve a man like Peeta? "I told you once, I'm not good at saying things. That's not untrue. I don't know what I feel or how to explain it even if I did. I know that I don't want to be without you. I know that you mean something to me."

He smiles at that and I feel my face grow warm. I'm glad I said it, but I can't help but wonder how absurd it sounds. "I don't know what I'd do without you either, Katniss. Let's just move forward. You know how I feel. And as long as you don't lie to me, I think we'll be okay."

I sigh with relief and feel immensely better than I did this morning. "Deal," I say, standing up to give him a hug. His strong arms wrap around me and I breathe in his scent. Gale might be home, but Peeta is something else. He is hope.


	2. Kisses and Important Visitors

**Kisses and Important Visitors**

My mind is reeling. After the chaos that surrounded our homecoming, Peeta and I finally found out that some things had changed in our few weeks away from the district. Gale is my cousin, supposedly to cultivate our story that Peeta and I are lovers. The Mellarks' and my family have been constantly hounded for interviews. Peeta's mother apparently caused an uproar when she referred to me as a 'Seam rat'. I roll my eyes at that one. She's no prize. I'd rather be a Seam rat than an abusive harpy.

Still, the entire town seems different. Everyone is watching me. And Peeta. And Gale. Like we are some sort of soap opera that will explode into a massive town brawl at any moment. I don't know what to think. I'd never even considered that Gale might have feelings for me until something my mother said to me a few nights ago.

We were washing the dishes in the kitchen when she turned to me and asked, "Is there any truth to what happened between you and that Mellark boy?"

I blushed instantly and sighed. "Some," I told her cryptically.

"Poor Gale," she muttered. When I looked at her like she'd grown two heads she smiled a knowing smile at me. "Your father's daughter. Both of you, utterly oblivious."

I know what she's saying. Oblivious, I might be. Stupid, I am not. Gale and me? I'd never even considered it. True, if it came down to choosing someone to marry, were a gun pointed at my head, Gale would have always been the logical choice before the Games. We are best friends. We understand each other. How can he have feelings for me and I hadn't a clue?

Besides, he's said nothing to me about it. Though, it has become harder and harder to spend any time with him at all. He's working in the mines now. Has been since the moment I left, it seems. Our only time together is Sunday, but who knows how long that will last. I miss him. He is more distant, though. It's true. Prim told me he took watching me in the Games very hard. I suppose I can understand that. I would have been hell on wheels if he'd been reaped.

Peeta and Haymitch keep my mind occupied though. Well, Peeta keeps my mind occupied. Haymitch just keeps my time occupied. Upon returning from the Games, he dove head-first into the bottle, probably making up for lost time since he remained at least partially sober for most of the Games trying to keep me alive.

Peeta and I make sure he's bathing, eating, and otherwise not living in filth. I even talked him into hiring Hazelle to come and clean his house regularly. It's a perfect solution. She get's extra money and he gets a house that should not be condemned.

"I think I'll go hunting," I say to Peeta as we walk away from Haymitch's house. "Gale has the day off."

His hurt expression is quickly masked, and I want to kick myself for even saying anything. But I feel his hand in mine and he gives me a reassuring squeeze that I think is to let me know he understands. "Okay," he say. "I'm going to the bakery anyway."

We walk hand-in-hand toward town and part near the bakery where he goes inside and I make my way to the fence separating District 12 from the forbidden area I've traipsed more times than I can count.

I pause, listening for the tell-tale buzzing that indicates the electricity is on, and when I hear nothing, I shimmy under the open portion of the fence and into the woods. Even though we don't need the game any longer, hunting in the woods is my solace. I don't know what I'd do without this freedom.

I pick up my bow and arrows and head deeper into the woods, breathing in the air. Fall is closer now and the weather is much more temperate. I love this time of year. I don't hear him as he approaches, but I know he's there. I can feel him out the way only best friends can. "Hey, Gale," I say, not even turning around.

"Catnip," he replies, catching up to me. "Get anything yet?"

"Just started," I explain.

"I can't stay out long today," Gale says, and I feel him inching away from me again. Emotionally.

"I understand," I say, though I really don't. If he has other plans I guess that's his business, but I have no idea what they could be.

"I have to actually catch food too, you know. Unlike some people," he says, his voice harsher than before.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I snap back, finding myself feeling defensive of my newly acquired wealth. I worked for it, after all. Not to mention, Gale knows I'd do anything for him and his family, if only he'd swallow his pride and let me.

"Nothing," he sighs, and I can tell he really didn't mean anything by what he said. He's tired, strung tight, and on edge.

"Gale, what's going on? I know the mines are hard. But that's not it," I ask.

"Do you know how hard it was? Watching you in there?" he suddenly asks me, and I'm caught off guard by his change of conversation. "With him."

I feel dread pooling in my stomach. No. Don't do this. Not now. I had lived in denial long enough, but the look in Gale's eyes told me that, no matter how oblivious I've been to this point, there was no denying what he's about to say. "Gale, don't," i beg, but I know it will fall on deaf ears.

"All this time, I knew we'd be together, Katniss. I always knew. No matter what, it was us against the world. Now it's always him. I just wanted a chance, Katniss." If I hadn't been thinking something like this was coming, I'd have been totally caught off guard. As it was, I suppose over the last weeks it's been made clear to me that Gale had fallen for me while I wasn't looking.

"Gale, please," I say, unable to explain to him why such an idea is not possible. At least not in my current state of mind.

"Katniss, just..." he doesn't finish his sentence but he does reach out to me, pulling me into his embrace just before his lips come crashing down on mine. They are firmer than Peeta's and his kiss more demanding than the ones I've been used to, but I find myself reacting.

I kiss him back, not because I want to, but because I need to. I need to know if there is something here; if only because I owe it to Peeta to be sure. His tongue swipes my lips and I feel myself cringe. It's not right. It doesn't feel right. Gale reminds me of home, but he doesn't make me feel the things I felt in the arena. With Peeta.

I push him back breaking our kiss and look up at him. I can feel the tears stinging my eyes. Damnit Gale! I don't want to deal with this. I don't want to drive this wedge between us, but I can't lie to him either. "I can't do this, Gale."

"You didn't feel anything?" he asks, his eyes penetrating me to my soul, the way they always could.

"You are my best friend. You are one of the most important people in my life," I explain, swallowing hard as I attempt to tell him how I feel. Killing people is easier than this. "But I don't feel that way about you, Gale. Please don't ruin this. Us. Please, don't make me choose between you as a friend or nothing at all."

He stares at me for a long moment, hurt clouding his eyes, but he _does_ seem to be contemplating what I'm saying. "Okay, Catnip," he says finally, stepping back. "I had to try, right?"

* * *

"Gale kissed me," I blurt out after I swallow a glass of water at Peeta's kitchen table. I have no idea what possessed me to tell him, but I did. It felt like a lie not to tell him, and I swore I would not lie to him. After everything, I owe him the truth.

I look up and see a mixture of emotions of Peeta's face, but he says nothing for a long moment. "Did you like it?" he finally asks and I feel relief. He's not mad.

"Yes and no," I answer. "I'm angry with him for doing it. But I understand why he felt he needed to. It clarified some things."

"Like?" Peeta prods.

"Kissing him wasn't like kissing you. I don't have a lot of experience. Any, really." I blush, realizing how silly I must sound. "But I do know that what I feel for him isn't the same thing as what I feel for you. He's my best friend. You...you are something different."

He smiles at that, and I can't help but smile in return. Peeta's smiles are contagious, after all. "Oh yeah?" he says, his tone flirty and I chuckle at him.

"Okay, well, I'm just glad you aren't angry," I say, feeling the tension leave the room.

"Why would I be angry? Gale would have to be blind not to be in love with you. And it's not like you asked him to kiss you. Even if you did, you told me the truth. That's all I ask," Peeta explained. He moves from his chair and pulls me up out of mine. "Come here," he says, pulling me close.

"A little experiment," he whispers against my face, and I feel that warm tingle in the pit of my stomach. I can barely concentrate on anything he says at this point as he leans in slowly, letting me retreat if I want. I don't. Hell no, I don't.

His lips are on mine in seconds, slow but firm as he presses his body into mine and I feel like putty in his hands, barely sure if I could stand if he didn't have his arms around me. His lips move slowly against mine, and I move my hands up to wrap around him, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

I want this. No matter what we haven't worked out, this, I want. It feels right and good and I can't help but moan against him. His tongue dips into my mouth and I take the next step devouring him with my own mouth. "Katniss..." he hisses against me before his lips are on mine again.

I'm pushed against the kitchen counter but barely register it as my mind is totally focused on Peeta pressed against me and his mouth doing sinful things to mine. My hands are on his strong arms now, finally filled out after the weeks of malnourishment in the arena. My nails are cling to him for dear life as he pulls back so both of us can breathe.

"Wow," I breathe, my breath coming out in pants as my body feels like it's overheating. He's panting too, and his eyes are a darker shade of blue than I remember. "What was the experiment?" I ask, as my brain functions again.

"Better than Hawthorne's kiss?" he asks.

I can't help it. I burst into laughter. "Yes. Much better." I say, kissing his cheek. He grins at that and I laugh again. "I better get home. Prim should be home from school soon."

"See you later," Peeta says, though he looks like a little boy on Christmas with that stupid grin on his face. Fucking adorable, really.

* * *

As I look at the anxious expression on my mother's face, I realize, I should have known better than to believe anything was over. But President Snow in my sitting room truly catches me by surprise. "President Snow," I greet, schooling my features after my mother has left the room.

"Miss Everdeen," he returns warmly, but the look in his eyes is cold as ice. "I hope you realize I very rarely have the opportunity to make it to the outlying districts. Your case is...somewhat special."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," I say, wringing my hands in my lap. It's the only thing I can do to keep from biting my nails to the quick. Effie would be proud that I've at least refrained from doing that.

"I think things between us would be a lot better if we both decide to be truthful, don't you agree?" he asks, though the question is merely rhetorical.

"Yes," i agree, though I really have no idea what he's talking about.

"It would be a real tragedy if something were to happen to your mother, or your sister, or especially your..._cousin_," he says, and I can tell he knows very well that Gale is not my cousin. Does he know about the kiss? How could he? Did someone tell him something? i have no idea what is going on or how to respond.

I can say nothing because my heart is pounding in my chest and I can already feel panic setting in. "That stunt with the berries," he says, pausing for effect, "it has caused a number of problems in many districts."

I say nothing. What can I say to that? Haymitch already warned me that I was in trouble, but I assumed it would blow over. Who wouldn't want to live and keep their boyfriend alive? How much of an act of rebellion could it really be? And there is no way that a full out war can start over me protecting a fellow tribute.

"Rebellions are nasty business, Miss Everdeen. Many lives are lost. Families torn apart. For what purpose?" Again, he asks a rhetorical question. Politics has never been of interest to me. I care far more about the here and now. I don't like the Capitol, but I don't want to be in charge of changing things either. I certainly don't want to be their primary enemy.

"I just wanted to keep Peeta alive," I finally say, though the words do not come out as strong as I want them too.

"Oh, I thought we were going to be truthful," President Snow replies, his tone pretending to be hurt. I am truly confused. "I'm not as naive as the public. I know a contrived relationship when I see one. And the people will only be fooled for so long," President Snow explains. "In fact, there are already some who believe your actions were entirely motivated by rebellion and not..._love._" He spits out the word as if it's poison.

I'm utterly blindsided. I hadn't expected this at all. What do I do? Pissing off the Capitol was a sure way to get you and your family killed.

"Why don't you just kill me, then?" I ask, bluntly getting to the point. I don't know what to say to these accusations.

"Two reasons, really. For one, the rebels will only be further fueled by your death. Secondly, you are of great value alive," he says smirking at me in a way that makes my skin crawl.

"Value?" I ask. Why can he not say what he means? This serpentine back and forth is giving me a headache - along with the overwhelming scent of rose coming from his lapel. I want to retch.

"I'm not sure if you are aware the affect you've had on the residents of the Capitol. They adore you. They _want_ you." He's leering at me now, and I feel like hiding.

"Please. You wanted us to be truthful. Just tell me what it is you are trying to say," I choke out.

"The rebels will not follow someone they no longer respect. Besides, it's not as if anyone would buy this story you've concocted about you and the baker's son. You two will publicly break up. We'll even make it Mellark's fault. Then you will be a regular visitor to the Capitol where you will wine and dine the wealthiest men in Panem," President Snow informs me, and I let the words sink in.

"You want me to be a professional socialite? I'm not social," I point out. I'd be the absolute worst company for the sophisticated and wealthy of the Capitol. He must know this.

"I don't think it's your conversation they'll be interested in," Snow deadpans.

My eyes widen as I realize what he's saying. I have to be his prostitute, or my family will be killed.


	3. New Sheriff in Town

**A/N: Thanks for the feedback, guys. I'm glad you like it so far. Keep it coming. It really feeds the muse. :)**

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New Sheriff in Town 

"I want a drink. I know you have alcohol in here," I say as I barge into Haymitch's house unannounced. He never locks his door anyway.

"What are you yapping about, Sweetheart?" he grumbled as he scratches his head and pads into the kitchen where we meet. He looks like hell, but I don't even have the heart to give him a hard time about it. I understand completely why Haymitch drinks now.

"Alcohol. I want some," I say again, my tone leaving no room for argument.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I'm sure your mother would kill me if..."

I cut him off with an icy glare. "Considering President Snow just showed up at my house and informed my that I'll be prostituting myself around the Capitol, I think I'm entitled to a damn drink," I tell him.

His eyes widen fractionally before he nods and turns to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out a bottle of brown liquor and two glasses. "Thanks," I mumble sitting at the kitchen table next to my mentor.

"Start from the beginning," Haymitch instructs as he pours the libations. I take a quick gulp, grimacing at the taste. How the hell does he drink this crap all the time.

"Apparently my not wanting to die, or kill Peeta, means rebellion in the other districts," I pout, and I know I'm being childish, but don't I deserve it? What I did was natural instinct. If people are rebelling that's on the Capitol, not me.

"President Snow came to your house?" Haymitch asks me, his eyes serious and his tone clear, even through the three gulps of alcohol he's downed.

I nod. "How he got in and out without anyone knowing, I'll never know. But there he was. I was informed that Peeta and I would have a public break-up, then I'd be making regular trips to the Capitol to fuck random men." I'm much more blunt than I would have been without the glass of liquor I have consumed. I certainly don't curse like that on a regular basis.

"Shit," Haymitch sputters. "You have to know, I never thought this would happen. I thought, if you could keep up the story with Mellark, it would be enough. The Capitol is crazy for the two of you. The districts rebelling, honestly don't care about your motivation at this point." I nod and just continue to drink.

Everything is hitting me so fast. I feel my heart race as the anxiety takes over. The alcohol is dulling my senses, but not fast enough. I pour more to drink. "He wants them not to respect me," I finally say.

He frowns at that and I can tell he's thinking. "I can't do this Haymitch," i finally say. "It's disgusting. _They_ are disgusting. And nothing I do will stop a rebellion that is already started."

"You don't have much of a choice, Sweetheart," Haymitch says with a heavy sigh. My eyes dart to his and I can't believe what he's saying.

"They can't make me do it!" I state hotly, though even in my inebriated state I know it's all talk.

He laughs humorlessly. "They can make you do anything," he says. "You know the last victor who simply embarrassed the Capitol?" I shake my head. "He ended up coming home from the Games to a dead family and dead girlfriend. He spends his days drinking himself into oblivion."

I look at him skeptically. I know what he's saying to me. He was punished by Snow. But why? "What did you do?" I ask.

"I used the arena against them. I made them look stupid - and in a Quell to boot," he shakes his head. "I never was pretty enough to 'sell'. So, he found other ways to punish me."

My head feels like it's going to explode and my fuzzy brain isn't helping matters. I take another drink anyway. "So, if I don't do this, they will kill Prim, and my mother, and Gale?" I say, already knowing the answer. I knew it the minute Snow threatened it, but I never wanted to actually believe it.

"Probably Hazelle and the kids as well. Anyone they know will motivate you," Haymitch informs me.

"Fuck..." I breathe. I've never even considered sex before. Not really. Before Peeta, I never thought about it at all. I didn't have time. I had more important things on my mind, like feeding my family and keeping the Peacekeepers off our backs. The arousal I've felt with Peeta is new and exciting, but I'd be lying if I said I was ready for sex with even him. How can I do this with total strangers? Strangers I hate? Strangers that believed me a commodity to fuck for money? I shiver at the thought.

"There is someone you should talk to," Haymitch says grimly, and I can tell he's disturbed by what I've told him. He cares about me, in his own way, but we are too similar and too stubborn to ever admit our mutual respect to one another.

"Who?" I ask, though I can't imagine anyone could make this situation better. I shudder to think what Peeta will say. Oh, God. Peeta! I shake my head. I'll think about him later.

"Finnick Odair," Haymitch says and I almost laugh.

"The playboy of the Capitol. I'd rather drink acid," I snort. Gale and I made a pact years ago to punch him in the face should we ever lay eyes on him. He was the Capitol's little darling. He dated the wealthiest ladies in the Capitol and acted like Snow's little lap dog. How anyone could go through the Hunger Games and come out with anything but contempt for these people, I'll never know.

"You know nothing about him," Haymitch snaps, and it gets my attention. "Do you think he willingly runs around the Capitol with all those women? Some of whom are old enough to be his grandmother?"

Actually, that's exactly what I'd thought. My brain is too cloudy to understand what Haymitch is implying. He sighs in frustration. "President Snow started prostituting him while he was barely more than a child. The Capitol _loved_ him. They wanted him. And Snow always gives the Capitol people what they want, right? IT didn't hurt that he brought in more money than Snow had ever received from a victor for similar services. He forced the boy to sleep with Capitol women not long after his fifteenth birthday. He's no more free than any of us are."

"How do you know this?" I ask. "Is it common knowledge?"

"Among a certain group of victors, yes," Haymitch says. "We are friends. We have all be intimidated or used by the Capitol in some way."

"My God," I mutter, taking one more swig of liquor. I know I shouldn't have any more. I never drink and I can feel it going to my head already. If this Finnick guy can actually help me, maybe it wouldn't hurt to talk to him.

"Can I have his number?" I ask.

"Why don't you let me talk to him first," Haymitch suggested, and I assume he must have a reason. I shrug and try to stand up, but lose my balance, bracing myself on the table.

"Come here, Sweetheart," Haymitch says with a roll of his eyes. He leads me over to the couch and pushes me down. "Sleep it off. Your mother will have me castrated if I send you home like this."

* * *

My head is pounding by the time I make my way back to my own house later that evening. Fuck. How the hell does Haymitch do this every single day? I feel like I've been hit by a train.

I consider stopping by Peeta's place on the way, but decide against it. I swore I wouldn't lie to him, but I haven't the slightest idea how to tell him the truth in this case. There is no one I can talk to about this. If I tell my mother, she'll be heartbroken. She might even consider talking me out of doing it at all. In which case, she'll be dead. If there is one thing I trust, it's that Haymitch is not overreacting in his assessment of the situation. All he did was piss off the Gamemakers. Apparently, I started a revolution.

Prim's no good either. She's still a child, innocent in so many ways. Besides, this is my burden and I refuse to share it with her.

Telling Gale is out of the question. He's already so willing to defy the Capitol. Adding fuel to his fire would only make things worse.

"Katniss, are you okay?" Prim asks me in a concerned voice and I just nod, heading up the stairs to my room.

"Sure, little duck," I say with a weak smile. "Just tired. See you in the morning." Prim nods at me, but I can tell she's not convinced everything is okay. For once, I can't be bothered to assuage her concerns. Everything is turning out upside down. Winning the Games was supposed to set me free, or as free as anyone can be in District 12. Instead, it's enslaved me in a whole new kind of torture.

* * *

"Katniss, you can talk to me," Peeta says, his eyes pleading for me to open up to him. I wish I could, but I haven't the slightest idea how to explain to him what President Snow said, nor what my new 'duties' to the Capitol will be.

Doing the only thing I know how, I wrap both arms around his strong shoulders and pull him into a tight hug. "I'm not ready to talk," I say, neither telling him the truth nor actually lying.

I feel him sigh against me, but his arms are wrapped around me too, and he nods against my cheek. "I'm here when you are ready to talk," he says. And that's something I already know. Peeta is always there. I can't imagine a world where he won't be. Still, this could change everything.

I can't forget about how President Snow assured me of a public break up - Peeta's fault, of course. What will that entail? What will Peeta do? When will it happen? So many questions unanswered. I wish Haymitch would just give me Finnick Odair's number. As awkward a conversation as it will be, at least _he_ knows what I'm in for.

"Want to go hunting?" I ask Peeta, needing to do anything to keep my mind from wandering. There are too many unknown variables, and at the end of the day, I'm not in control of any of them.

"Me?" he asks, pulling back to look at me as if I've just suggested we get Effie to play nude hop-scotch with us. I grin up at him.

"Sure. Okay, we probably won't catch anything, but it could be fun," I tell him.

He smiles warmly at me a nods. "Okay. If you don't mind me and my bad leg scaring off the wildlife, let's go." It's true. I'm certain I won't kill a thing with Peeta with me, but I don't really care. I just want to spend time with him, and the woods are the only place where I don't feel the suffocating reality settling around me.

Peeta's hand it warm in mine as we make our way toward the Seam and past the house that I called home for my entire life. It seems like ages ago. Was I really only preparing for the reaping two months ago? He squeezes my hand, knowing I've gone off to my own world. I smile up at him and squeeze his hand in return.

As we approach the fence, I realize, for the first time in years, it's on. "What the..." I mutter to my self, perking my ears up to make sure. "It's on," I say with a disappointed sigh.

"Is that normal?" Peeta asks me.

"No," I say. "It's never on. Gale and I haven't seen it on for years." I wonder for a moment if this has anything to do with President Snow's visit the week before. It does seem awfully coincidental that he showed up days after Gale kissed me, and the first time I've been back to the woods since, the fence is on. Perhaps I'm being paranoid, but I think that's a normal reaction to what I've been through over the last months.

"Hey! You two! What are you loitering by the fence for?" A gruff voice yells behind us, and we both turn in unison. He's a Peacekeeper. That much is obvious from his crisp uniform, but I've never seen him before. District 12 doesn't have many Peacekeepers. We are not a rebellious district. Usually Cray and Darius can handle the brunt of the problems here.

"Just going for a walk," Peeta says calmly before I can get my mouth to work. This Peacekeeper doesn't look nearly as reasonable as Cray. And I get the distinct feeling that he wouldn't have bought my game at the Hob.

"Looks a lot like loitering to me," he says. "Get out of here!" His tone is so harsh is shocks me.

"Come on," Peeta says, pulling me away from the fence and I follow him blindly. My mind is racing. Who is this new Peacekeeper? Why is he here? Does this mean I'll never be able to go to my precious woods again? The thought stops me in my tracks. Gale. How will Gale hunt? How will I make it through the torture ahead without a safe haven?

"Who was that?" he asks me rhetorically when we are out of earshot.

"No idea. I want to check on Gale. He needs to know the fence is being guarded," I say, and Peeta just nods, heading toward the Seam and the house that the Hawthorne's live in. I have no idea how he knows where to go, but I don't ask. It's nice simply having him knew what I need and where I need to go without having to tell him.

Hazelle's red teary eyes greet us as she opens the door. "What's wrong?" I ask feeling my heart stop in my chest. Please don't make me be too late! She says nothing but opens the door wider to let us in.

I gasp when I see Rory tending the wounds on Gale's back. Whipped. His skin is barely hanging on in places, and I nearly vomit onto the floor. Peeta wraps and arm around me, steadying me as I try to focus on breathing. "Gale, what happened?"

"Tried to sell a squirrel to Cray. Only Cray's gone. There's a new Head Peacekeeper. Name's Thread," he grunts in pain, not even looking up at us. "He whipped me in the public square before ordering his new crop of Peacekeepers to burn down the Hob."

Oh God! "Greasy Sae? Ripper?" I ask.

"Everyone got out," Gale assures me, hissing as Rory dabs at his wounds. I sigh with relief, but I don't actually feel all that relieved. I had naively thought things could not get worse. That was a selfish thought. Sure, things were bad for me, but the rest of District 12 was doing okay, or as well as they'd ever done. I have no doubt that Thread and his men were sent here to send me a message. I was putting people out of work, and getting them whipped in the public square. I felt utterly disgusted with myself.

"Gale, can you walk?" I ask.

"I'm fine," he grunts. Clearly he's not, but he's not nearly as injured as he could have been. Selling poached food is a execution-worthy offense. I have no doubt that if Thread catches him again, he'll be dead.

"You're not," I say, stepping away from Peeta and kneeling before Gale. I place my hand on his cheek and feel how chilled and sweaty his skin is. "Can you make it to my house? My mother has Capitol medicines there."

"Like I'd use anything from _them_," He spits out, and I roll my eyes at him.

"Get up, Gale," I sigh. "Hazelle, you are all more than welcome to stay with us while Gale recovers. Don't let his pride get him killed." Hazelle smiles gratefully at me and nods.

"Thank you," she says, and I can tell I've made her feel better. There is that at least, and Rory is already forcing Gale to his feet.

"We'd better go," I say to Peeta. "I have to help my mom prepare for the patient." Gale grumbles behind me, and I can't help but smirk. Peeta barely holds back a laugh himself. Oh, Gale is annoyed at being taken care of. He'll just have to get over it.

* * *

The ringing phone pulls me from my thoughts. Gale is patched up and sleeping in one of my guest rooms. Hazelle is with him. I think she's terrified that this is just the beginning of troubles with Thread. I agree with her. Though, maybe if I just do as I'm asked, Snow will keep him from killing people.

My heart pumps in my chest as I consider who could be calling here. Peeta has the number, but he could simply come over. Haymitch has the number, but I'm pretty certain his phone was ripped off the hook a long time ago.

"Katniss," Prim calls to me, phone in hand. "Finnick Odair is on the phone for you."


	4. Mandatory Viewing

**A/N: I'm really cranking these out, eh? Haha, I hope I can continue to update this fast, but we'll see. Anyway, Thanks for the support and keep letting me know what you think. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Mandatory Viewing**

I swallow hard and walk from the kitchen table to the front parlor where Prim is holding the phone. As much as I've told myself I want to have this conversation, now that it's upon me I feel a bit sick. "Thanks, Prim," I mutter as she hands me the phone, her look curious but she doesn't say anything.

"Can I have a little privacy?" I ask, trying not to sound too serious, but I know I fail when I see my mother and Prim exchange a look before nodding and leaving the room. I close the door to the kitchen behind them and take a deep breath. I can do this.

"Hello," I say into the phone, unsure of what will come of this conversation.

"Hi, Katniss," a gentle masculine voice replies, and I'm a little surprised by the use of my first name. Then again, he's barely 8 years older than I. What is he going to do? Call me Miss Everdeen? Besides, we are fellow victors. I suppose that means we are close at least in some way. Soon, we'll be fellow Capitol prostitutes. Yes, Finnick can call my by my first name, I suppose.

I sit on the love-seat by the phone and wait for him to say something else. I have no idea where to begin.

"Haymitch called. I can't say I'm totally surprised. I was in the Capitol for your Games. The people there are mad about you - and Peeta. But their love for Peeta is somewhat more pure," Finnick says.

"I suppose that means they want to fuck me, while they want to take him out for good conversation," I deadpan. He chuckles into the phone and I relax a bit. Even though he's been a celebrity for most of my life, I feel that I can be candid with him. Haymitch trusts him, and so must I.

"Something like that," he says. "Though, even if Haymitch hadn't called, I'd know there is something going on. The Capitol press has been hinting at trouble between you and Peeta for more than a week."

"What kind of trouble? President Snow never told me how he plans to break us up," I say, trying to get as much information as I can out of Finnick. He seems to know quite a lot about what goes on in the Capitol.

"Cheating scandal would be my guess," he says. "He's whipping up support for you in the name of pity and making way for people to bend over backward for a chance to 'comfort' you." He snorts at that point and I feel dread in the pit of my stomach. The idea of Capitol people thinking of me at all is disconcerting.

"Peeta will be devastated," I say, more to myself than Finnick. It's not fair how this entire thing will affect him too. What has he done to be punished for?

"Ah! So there _is_ some truth to the Star-crossed Lovers from District 12," Finnick says, and I can tell he's amused. It annoys me.

"This isn't a joke. This is my life," I tell him. "Peeta is important to me. It's bad enough what I have to do. Add that to the fact that Peeta is going to be the one everyone blames..."

"Don't misunderstand the Capitol mentality too much, Katniss. They will blame him for the break-up. For about 10 minutes they might even turn on him. But Peeta is well loved and they will find a way to rationalize his behavior soon enough," Finnick explained. And I can understand that. He's a lot more likable than I am. I'm certainly thankful Snow has picked me to be his whore rather than Peeta. I don't ever want to think about him in that position. I shudder at the thought.

"I don't care all that much about what the Capitol thinks. What about my family? My friends? _His _family?" I say.

"It's hard," Finnick agrees. "Nothing about this is easy. It's hard and it stays hard. It never gets easier to do what they make you do and to lie about it. It helps having someone to talk to."

"Who can I talk to?" I snap, though I'm really not mad at Finnick. "You think this is the kind of thing my mother can handle? My friends? Haymitch doesn't want to deal with this. And I don't blame him."

"You can talk to me," he offers, and I have to admit, it's a kind gesture. "And, I can't tell you how much better it is to come home to District 4 and have one person who knows what I'm going through."

"Who?" I ask before I can even contemplate the fact that it is an incredibly rude question.

"My Annie, of course. She was the victor from the 70th Hunger Games. I got her reaped, actually," he mutters to himself bitterly. I want to ask him how, but I don't dare bring it up. Not now. "She found out by accident. I never intended to tell her. But her knowing makes it easier somehow."

I let what he says sink in. "You think I should tell Peeta, don't you?"

"I think if he's important to you, he might be the one person to get you through this," Finnick answers.

"I don't want to lie to him, but I don't think he can handle this," I say. "I can barely handle it." I sigh to myself. I'm overwhelmed with visions and ideas of what is ahead of me. I know so little about sex and men. Honestly, my first kiss was on national television.

"What will they make me do?" I ask, letting the question that I've been marinating over for weeks finally bubble to the surface.

"Anything they want," Finnick says matter-of-factly. "And you have to be enthusiastic about it. Every client gives a report to Snow himself. And he _will_ punish you. Trust me."

"This is so disgusting," I whisper to myself.

"Look, Katniss, I didn't call to make you feel worse. I just wanted to let you know that I'm here, and if you need to talk or have questions, I can help," Finnick says. And I can tell that he means what he says.

"Thank you," I say, unable to think of any response for what I'm feeling and thinking inside.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asks, his tone cautious.

"Yes," I say hesitantly.

"Have you ever had sex before?" Finnick asks me. And my immediate reaction is to hotly inform him that it's none of his damn business, but then I remember he's asking for a good reason. He's not snooping. It is a valid question given what we are discussing and what I'm about to do.

"No," I admit. "My first kiss was in the Games. I know nothing about being sexy or having sex."

He's quiet for a long moment, and I wonder for a second if he's hung up on me. "Katniss, I'm going to be blunt with you. You do _not_ want to lose your virginity to a client. You are nothing but an illusion to them. They take, and if you are lucky they will like you enough to give you a little something in return. But when it comes to sex, they are not forgiving."

"What other choice do I have? Snow could come to collect me any day!" I cry. Why can't anyone understand that I don't have any choices. I'm stuck. I'm a prisoner.

"I'm just telling you, find someone, anyone you even mildly care about, and lose your virginity to him. Don't give it to the Capitol. You'll hate yourself even more," Finnick says, and I can hear the sadness in his voice and then I know. Some faceless rich woman in the Capitol took his, and he regrets it.

"Okay, thank you, Finnick," I say, still thinking about what he's said to me. As terrifying as the notion of sex is, I'll be having it soon regardless. Do I really want the first time to be with someone who's paid for me?

Finnick leaves me with his number and then says goodnight and I sit staring at the wall for a long time before my mother knocks on the kitchen door and comes into the parlor. "Are you okay, Katniss?"

"I'm fine," I say with a smile, though my insides are doing summersaults.

She sits next to me and I wait for her to speak. She obviously has something on her mind. "I know there is something wrong," she says. "Since the day President Snow showed up at our house, you've been...different. What did he say to you?"

I sigh. How can I explain without really explaining?

"I can't tell you. I'm forbidden to discuss it," I lie.

I can tell she believes me, but she's not happy. "Are you okay, Katniss? Are you safe?"

"Yes," I tell her immediately. "There are things I have to do as a victor in the Capitol, and I'm just struggling to deal with it."

She looks like she wants to say more, but she just nods and drops the subject. I couldn't be more relieved. I hug her and tell her good night before going up to my room where Prim is waiting.

"So, Finnick Odair?" she asks me, smirking mischievously.

I laugh at her and roll my eyes. "It was Capitol business, little duck. Don't start spreading rumors."

"Well, good. I like Peeta," she says simply.

"Me too," I say, smiling. I really do. And a big part of me is hoping that, even with the shit storm brewing, he will understand. I kiss Prim goodnight and send her off to bed before flopping down on my own dramatically.

Finnick's advice is rolling around in my brain and I'm seriously considering what he's said. If the Capitol has my body, can't I at least made the decision of who gets it first? Can't I be the one to take that decision and make it my own? And if I choose this, who do I choose? Peeta, who ignites a fire within me, but is worth far more than a one-time convenience fuck? Or Gale, who would do anything for me - even this - but would want more than I'm willing to give?

Fuck. I have a headache.

* * *

"You don't want my opinion, Sweetheart," Haymitch drawls. "You already know what to do, you just don't want to do it."

"Enlighten me, then," I huff at him indignantly.

"You want to tell Mellark the whole truth. The only thing stopping you is that you hate pity. You hate making him feel bad. And you can't possibly begin to imagine how to ask the boy to steal your virtue," Haymitch says as he takes a pull from his flask.

Well, fuck. Maybe Haymitch and I are _too_ similar. Unwilling to back down I huff again. "Well, my concerns are not ridiculous."

"They are when you consider that he's going to find out sooner or later that something is wrong. Like, perhaps when the whole District is buzzing about him cheating on you," Haymitch says with a roll of his eyes.

"Do you know what they have planned?" I ask.

"Not specifically, but it's rather obvious," Haymitch admits. "The Capitol press has been talking about Peeta's wondering eye for a while now. Snow wants the rest of the districts to know what's happening, so it will be made widely public soon enough."

"I wish they didn't have to drag him into this," I sigh.

"What? You think Snow could sell you when you are still in love with the Capitol darling?" Haymitch asks rhetorically. Of course, I know he couldn't, but I can't help but think about how fucked up this is for Peeta.

Before I can respond, we hear someone stomping through the door and Peeta appears in the parlor seconds later. "I came to fetch you both. Apparently there is mandatory viewing in the town square."

I groan in annoyance. Usually we are not subjected to mandatory television viewings dealing with anything but the Hunger Games and the Victor's Tour. The last thing I want is to see anything from the Capitol. However, if we don't go, we will be ripe for a public whipping - and Thread has proven himself to be quite adept at the whip.

"Let's go," I say, pulling Haymitch off the couch and taking Peeta's hand in mine.

* * *

Fucking tabloid news. Really? _This_ is important to the regime? I shift from foot to foot waiting for the maroon colored anchor to finish talking about who was seen shopping where and what they bought.

"Get ready, Sweetheart," Haymitch whispers beside me. "I've got a feeling the ball's about to drop." No. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these people. I begin to panic as I look around. Literally everyone is here.

It makes so much sense, though. Public break up. Public embarrassment for us both. President Snow is a real fucking bastard. I grip Peeta's hand so tight, he looks at me confused, and I just keep my eyes forward at the huge screens.

_"Breaking news!" _The female anchor chirped. _"It seems Hunger Games winner, Katniss Everdeen, could be headed for heartbreak!" _

My breath catches and I fight to keep watching as I already know what's coming. What I see takes me completely by surprise, however. There, on the screen, is a nearly naked Peeta puling an equally undressed blond into his arms, kissing her passionately as his hands roam down her body. There is no way to decipher who the girl is, her face is hidden, but Peeta's is obvious, and I feel oddly lucky that I had no way to prepare for this. My shock is real and believable. I am shocked. Even as I _know_ it's an illusion, I can't believe how real it looks.

My mouth pops open and I hear a sudden gasp come from Peeta. I drop his hand, prepared to run. It's what they expect of me. It's what the President wants. A public display. Looking at him, I can see the terror in his eyes and I wish I could tell him, right here and now, that I _know_ he didn't do this. But that's a conversation for another time.

"I have to go," I say, my voice choking up against my will. This moment is so real, so visceral, and I know that it means my days as a free woman are numbered.

"Katniss, wait!" he calls out to me but I'm already running. I know he'll never catch me. His bad leg added with my sheer will to get as far away from the town center as possible working against him.

I hear the din of the crowd as I flee, and I don't stop running until it's silent and I'm at the gates of the Victor's Village. I don't go to my home though. I don't want to deal with Mother or Prim when they return. There is only one person I want to talk to, and I go to his house to wait for him. It's time to lay it all out there, and I hope he can live with what I have to say.

I bite my nails nervously as I sit at Peeta's kitchen table. He must have been motivated because I hear him banging at the door to my house only moments later. "Damnit!" he cries and kicks the rail of my porch. I can't help it. I giggle.

Then I hear him shuffling back to his own house, apparently wishing to give me a little time before trying again. As he walks in the door, I take a few deep calming breaths.

"Katniss," he breaths when he enters the kitchen and sees me sitting there. "I have no idea how they made that footage, but that wasn't me. I've never..."

I put my hand up to stop him, but he continues. "You have to believe. I've never wanted anyone but you. I've never even kissed anyone but you, Katniss. I swear."

"I know, Peeta," I finally say. "Sit down." I indicate the chair next to me and he reluctantly takes it. "We have to talk. I'm ready to tell you what's been bothering me for the last few weeks."


	5. Conversations

**Conversations**

I can see that Peeta is dying to speak, but I also know that none of his apologies or protestations are necessary. He's innocent, and I know it. Even without Snow's visit, I would have known. Peeta Mellark is not capable of cheating. This much I know. Besides, when would he have had the opportunity.

I take a deep breath and try to gather my thoughts, but there is really no easy way to begin this conversation. "A few weeks ago, President Snow came to my house."

"What?" Peeta's eyes bugged nearly out of his head, and I can understand the reaction. For one, I've never heard of an instance of him coming to District 12. Secondly, it's hard to believe he got in and out without anyone known. But he did.

"One day, I came home from the woods and there he was. My mother was terrified," I admit. "He led me into our Parlor as if he owned the place and told me about the rebellion brewing in the other districts."

"So, that's real?" Peeta asks. I just nod at him. "But what does any of this have to do with you? Or the tabloids?" he asks me patiently.

"It's complicated. I have to start at the beginning for you to understand completely," I say, trying not to get frustrated. If he kept asking questions, this would only get harder. He nods at me and I continue.

"He told me that when I used those berries to defy the Capitol, it set a lot of things in motion. I gave them a focal point for their rage. Many of them think it was an act of rebellion and not an act of a desperate girlfriend," I explain to him.

He pushes his lips together and I can tell he's dying to say something, but he remains quiet. The hard part of this is coming, and I can think of no other way to say it but to rip off the bandage. "He has two problems, as he explained it to me. For one, the districts regard me as a leader of a rebellion I didn't even know about, and two..."

Fuck this is so hard. Telling Haymitch was one thing. He is a confidante and he understands. But Peeta...he's, I don't know what he is, but he's not someone I want to tell about President Snow's newest duties for me.

"Katniss, just tell me," Peeta says, his voice calm and his eyes warm. "Whatever it is, just tell me."

I nod, knowing that I have to. I've made my decision, and I trust Peeta. No matter what, I don't think he'd abandon me given this new information. But what will he do? I haven't a clue.

"He wants to sell me to the men of the Capitol. Apparently, I'm a hot commodity," I snort at that. I haven't a clue why anyone wants to fuck me of all people. I spent the better part of the Games reigning in the urge to tell every single person I met just how disgusting I found the Capitol. I'm not a striking beauty. I'm not social. I'm awkward and unsexy.

Peeta's silence makes me look back up at him, and I can see his mouth moving but nothing is coming out. "What?" he finally says.

"Apparently, this isn't all that uncommon. Some of the victors become desired by the Capitol citizens and they pay very good money to sleep with us," I explain as calmly as I can manage. It sounds absurd coming out of my mouth.

"Katniss..." his strangled voice sounds pained, but I shake my head and continue on. I can't look at him. I stare at his wood kitchen table top and explain the rest.

"He told me he'd break us up. He said he'd make it your fault. It makes sense. They don't want to sell me if I'm the bad guy in our love story. I didn't know for sure how he'd break us up. I had my suspicions. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but...I wasn't sure I was planning to tell anyone but Haymitch," I stare a hole into the table and don't dare look up to see Peeta's reaction.

"Haymitch knows?" Peeta's voice is soft, but it sounds strange. I just nod.

I hear him get up from the table and I worry that he's going to leave me here with my shame. It's a lot to take in. I should know. But his lack of reaction is confusing to me.

My heart nearly explodes in my chest when I hear the loud crash of a plate smashing into the floor. "Fucking hell!" Peeta yells, and I jump at the unexpected outburst.

Tears well up in my eyes before I can stop them, the gravity of the situation settling over me for the first time. Now that Peeta knows, this is real. This is going to happen. I am going to be a whore to the Capitol in a matter of days. I know it won't take long.

I don't realize I'm actually crying until I hear myself sniffle and feel Peeta make his way back to me. "Come here," he says, pulling me from the kitchen chair. I follow him blindly toward his own parlor where he pushes me down on the couch and plops down next to me, his strong arm wrapped around my shoulders.

"You are not going to do this," he says, finally, forcing me to look at him. His eyes are warm and sincere, but there is a hint of barely contained rage under the surface. "They can't make you do this."

I shake my head, wishing I could be comforted by his confidence. "Yes they can," I say pitifully. "He'll kill Prim and my mother. He'll kill Gale and the Hawthornes. And when he realizes what you mean to me, he'll kill you too. I'm not the first person he's done this to. None of us have choices. We are all slaves in Panem," I say, voicing what most of us are too afraid to say aloud.

"You are a person, Katniss. You are not an object. They can't use you this way," Peeta says, shaking me to make me see his side. "It's wrong."

"Can't use me? Peeta, were you in the same Hunger Games I was? All they do is use us. Use us for coal. Use us for entertainment. We are nothing to them. I'm an illusion. A warm body to fill their beds. I'm nothing more," I say. And I can see the hurt in his eyes, but he needs to hear some real truth right now. Being a merchant's son might have saved him from starvation, but he's no more free than I.

"How can I let them?" he finally says. "How can I..." he stops speaking and shakes his head, letting go of my arms and pulling me into him until my head is pressed against his chest. "I don't think I can do this."

"Peeta, please," I beg him, holding tightly to his shirt. "I need you. I need someone who knows. Who can put me together when I come home. Please." I look up at him, begging in a way I've never begged anyone. Then again, I've never needed anything or anyone like I need Peeta to do this for me.

He wars with himself, and I can tell he still wishes he could make the entire thing go away, but eventually he sighs. "If you need me, you know I can't deny you anything." His embrace is tight and I feel safe, even for just a moment. I relax into him, feeling like I'm not alone for the first time in weeks.

"I'm scared," I finally admit, now that my face is buried in his shirt and he can't see me. "I've never...Well, you know I've never done - anything." I blush and I'm so grateful he can't see me. I feel like an idiot.

He says nothing for a long time, and I realize it's hard to know what to say. This isn't something any of us deal with in District 12, least of all merchant's kids. "This is so fucked up," he finally says.

His arms are trembling and I move my head up to look at him, his eyes are sad and I can tell he's only remaining calm for my sake. "I couldn't agree more," I say, my tone lighter than my heart. "I talked to Finnick Odair about it."

"Finnick Odair?" Peeta asks, puzzled and almost amused for a moment.

"Oh, he's a Capitol whore as well," I say as if it's common knowledge, and I can't help it. I laugh at the shocked look on Peeta's face. "That's why he's always in the Capitol, and always on the arm of a new woman," I explain.

"This is too much," Peeta says, shaking his head and loosening his arms. "I can't believe anyone would want to pay for sex. I can't believe that he would kill your family to get you to do it."

"We aren't living in Wonderland, Peeta," I say, though my tone is softer than my words. "He will do anything to get what he thinks he needs. He needs me to be ruined for the other districts, and he needs me to keep the Capitol people appeased."

"I don't want you to do it," Peeta says, lifting my chin to look into his eyes. "I wanted...I wanted to...Damn it all, I wanted us to be together. I wanted to explore these things with you, if you ever decided you wanted me in return. Now..."

"Peeta, do you know why I'm telling you this?" I ask.

"Because of what happened in the square?" He surmises.

"No." I shake my head. "If all I wanted was to explain what happened in the square, i'd have told you that President Snow wants to break us up. I never would have told you about the other."

"Why did you tell me, then?" he asks.

"Because I want to. I've gone over this in my head a million times since Snow left my house. There are two people that I trust more than anyone who are not family. You and Gale. But I chose to tell you because it's you that I want to come home to," I admit. This is more than I've ever said in regard to a romantic relationship between me and Peeta. But he needs to know. I did consider telling Gale. Letting him be the one to take my virginity as my best friend. But it was wrong. It felt wrong. And Gale would be far more likely to do something stupid.

In the end, Peeta was the only choice. I want more with him, if he'll have me, and he's become more a part of my life than any one, save Prim.

"I don't know how to handle this, Katniss. You know I will be here for you, but how can I watch them use you? How can I live with myself sending you off to be sold to the highest bidder?" Peeta asks, his voice strained with emotion and i reach up to cup his cheek, stretching to place my lips on his for a gentle kiss.

"Can I ask you for one thing? And if you don't want to, please just be honest with me," I say, looking at him seriously.

"I don't know how I'm going to do this either. Finnick can help me with the practicality of it all. But, I don't think I can handle giving the Capitol everything. I want my first time to be my choice. My decision," I explain, watching him swallow hard as he listened to what I was saying.

"I understand if it's too much for you. But I really want to experience my first time with you," I say, letting out a relieved breath as I realized it was out there now. I wouldn't have to repeat that difficult sentence ever again.

"Of course," he says instantly, and I have to admit I'm shocked. This is Peeta Mellark we are talking about. The boy who loved me from afar since we were five, and barely had the courage to kiss me in the arena, even when he thought he would die.

"That easy?" I say, my brows arching.

"You are right. You should have the right to decide who will be your first, and I'm honored you want me to be the one. I'd be a fucking moron to say no," he says, a small smile playing on the edge of his lips. "I just wish it wasn't forced."

"I have to admit, I worried this would be too much for you. I sure as hell know it's too much for me," I explain, snuggling closer to him. "But please don't think it doesn't mean anything to me. Of course, I would have wanted to wait, but there's no one else I can think of that I'd want to give myself to. It would have happened eventually, you know."

He smiles brightly at my words, and I feel his heard beat a bit faster under my cheek. How had this boy been in front of me my whole life and I neglected to notice. "It is too much. If I could fix this, I'd do anything to stop this from happening, but I can't. I don't want you to do this, but I know why you have no choice," Peeta explains.

"Thank you," I say. "It feels so much better to have someone to talk to." I feel the tears creeping in against and instead of stopping them, I let myself go, and let him see me - vulnerable.

"Come here," he says, pulling me close and shifting us so he's lying down on the couch, me draped over him. He holds me tight as I cry silently into his chest, and I let myself wallow, just for a moment, in self-pity.

* * *

I had no idea that I'd fallen asleep against Peeta until I am jolted awake by a frantic knock at the door. "PEETA!" I hear from the front door.

"Shit, I'd better let her in," Peeta says, his own voice laced with sleep as he shifts beneath me. It's near unset, I wonder how long we've been asleep.

I sit up and straighten my clothes as I hear Prim's frantic voice and Peeta's gentle tones from the front hall. "Hi, Little Duck," I greet with a smile as she rushes to the parlor.

"Do you have any idea how worried we were? And after everything, what are you doing _here_?" she demands. It's probably the first time I've ever seen her angry with me.

"Prim, it's complicated," I start, biting my lip as I consider how to explain this.

"Well, I'm sure I can keep up," she snaps. "He cheated on you, Katniss!"

Peeta looks down at his feet from where he stands in the doorway of the room and I sigh. "No, he didn't." I say. "Prim, you have to promise you won't say anything about this to anyway, okay?"

"Katniss..." she says with an frustrated tone.

"Just promise!" I demand.

"Fine, I promise," she says, and even though she's acting like a teenager, I know she will keep her promise to me. She is the most trustworthy person I know.

"The President of Panem wants everyone to think Peeta cheated on me. He wants the rest of the districts to believe we've broken up," I say.

"That's silly. What would President Snow care about a silly teenage relationship?" Prim asks. And under normal circumstances, that would be an excellent question. As I cannot tell her the truth, I have to make something up one the fly.

"Because of my new job in the Capitol. Look, Prim, I can't tell you everything. I swear, Peeta is a good guy, and he didn't hurt me. You don't have to hate him," I promise.

She looks at me for a long minute before nodding her head. She turns to Peeta and smiles slightly. "I'm glad you didn't do it. I like you, and I would have hated to have to kill you."

He chuckles nervously but comes further into the room. "I like you too, Prim."

"Well, you better come home," Prim says, turning back to me. "Mother is frantic with worry."

"Okay," I say, getting up and stretching my arms over my head to work out the kinks from my impromptu nap.

"I'll come over tomorrow to...talk more," I tell Peeta. He nods and lets his fingers brush against mine as I pass him on my way to the front door. I feel butterflies in my stomach and can't help but grin to myself. I feel so much closer to him now.

(BREAK)

The reaction in District 12 was somewhat more subdued than I expected. The fact of the matter is, most people did not even know the extent of my relationship with Peeta anyway. They assumed it was all a lie to win the Games to begin with, and while we were close upon return, not many put a great did of stock in a real romance between us. Just as well, because I don't really feel like explaining things to anyway.

Gale is a problem, though. I know how he is, and I'm not surprised at all when I hear his masculine voice yelling at Peeta even as I sit in my own house. I let out a frustrated breath and grab my jacket before stomping over to Peeta's front porch where Gale has worked up a rage as he stares down a bemused Peeta.

"If you are going to make a scene, at least go inside," I hiss looking at Peeta for permission. He nods and moves aside as I push Gale into Peeta's house.

"You fucking prick. Even if you aren't with her, you owned her the respect of not getting caught screwing other women!" Gale yells, his fists clinched as if he is barely controlling the urge to punch Peeta in the face.

"Gale, will you calm down?" I sigh.

"How can _you_ be calm? He humiliated you in front of the whole country. _Everyone_ saw that!" Gale shouts.

"I know they did. And I knew it was coming," I say, my tone tired and frustrated. This better bet the last time I have to explain this to anyone.

"What?" Gale asks, his tone utterly confused and I plop down into a kitchen chair before I give him the same speech I gave Prim the night before.

"The fucking Capitol can't make you do anything," he says, and I roll my eyes at him.

"Oh really?" I ask, sarcastically. "So, it's just coincidence that the fence is on all hours of the day now? It's just happenstance that a new crop of Peacekeepers designed to ruin our hunting business have shown up here after President Snow made his little visit? Or that the Hob was burned down? It just so happens that Haymitch's family was killed when he embarrassed the Capitol in their own Games? Open your eyes, Gale. We don't have choices here. And no matter how much you want to believe you can fight it, you can't!" I'm yelling and panting and I know i'm not yelling at him, but at the situation.

"Catnip," he says, his tone softer now. "What are they going to make you do in the Capitol." I see Peeta shift uncomfortably to my side and I look at him briefly, sorrow etched on his face. I swallow and shrug.

"I'm not sure. Something to do with brushing elbows with sponsors," I lie. "Lots of Victors are forced back into the Capitol throughout the year."

"Why not send Mellark?" He asks as if Peeta isn't standing in the same room.

"His name is Peeta, and I'm not sure why they don't want to use him. Perhaps they will at some point," the idea sends my heart racing. I _never_ want that to happen.

"Gale, please, for me, just let this go. I swear to you, Peeta has not wronged me, and I don't really care what anyone else thinks," I assure him.

He sighs but finally nods his head. "Fine," he says. He looks at Peeta one more time, a threat in his eyes but he says nothing and I sigh with relief. The last thing I need is a testosterone competition between the two. Then again, Peeta isn't likely to engage in such behavior.

I let Gale out of the house and turn back around to the blonde who occupies the vast majority of my thoughts. His jaw is tense and I only notice it after the threat of Gale exploding has been defused.

"Are you okay? He doesn't mean anything by it. He's protective," I explain.

"He's in love with you," Peeta says, simply.

"He thinks he is," I admit.

"He is," Peeta answers.

"And so what if he is?" I demand. "I can't control how he feels. He's my best friend. I'm not going to drop him because he's developed a crush on me. He swore to respect my feelings, and it's enough for me."

"I didn't say anything," Peeta responds. "I'm just telling you, think about this. He loves you, and he would be just as willing to be there for you as I. Are you sure you want me?" I can tell it's taking all of his strength to ask me this question, and I know why he's asking too. When we decide to take this to the next level, there will be no going back for him. I have to make him understand there is no going back for me either.

"I told you last night. I picked you because I want you. I'm not good at emotions or expressing them. I probably never will be. Intimacy may be very hard for me, given what I'm being forced to do. But please don't question that I chose you because I want _you _and no one else." He regards me for several seconds before moving forward and wrapping both of his arms around me.

"Okay," he says. "Just, if you change your mind, please tell me. I can't stand the thought of losing you and not even knowing it."

What have I done to this boy...man to make him so worried that I'll shut down? Was it the Games? Was it the 10 years before that? I lean up and kiss him gently on the lips. "I'm not going anywhere," I tell him. And for the first time, saying that doesn't fill me with dread. I don't_ want_ to go anywhere.

He leans down and his lips cover mine, his kiss deep and through, and I moan against him, my fingers clinging to the thin material of his shirt as he holds me so close I can barely breathe. "A-Are we going to do this now?" I ask nervously as I pull back to look at him.

He shakes his head. "No," he says. "Not like this."

I'm confused. I thought we'd agreed that we needed to do this before Snow calls on me for my first client. "But-"

He cuts me off with a short kiss then pulls back. "Come over tonight. I want to make this special."

"You don't have to," I assure him. Practically speaking, I don't need the romance. I know how we feel about each other. This is just sex, right? Just getting it out of the way.

"I want to," he says with a warm smile. I just nod and let him kiss me again.


	6. The First Time

**A/N: I want to address an issue some have had about "eavesdropping" by the Capitol in the Victor houses and phone lines. While it's true that the Capitol has this ability, It's my opinion that they focus on using it where it is needed. Among the Victors, especially ones like Katniss who Snow feels is pretty well under his thumb, it's not so necessary. They aren't going to storm District 12 because she and Finnick commiserate over having to be 'Capitol Whores', and unless they start talking about rebellion, I can't see a situation where "bugging" or "tapping" would really affect the characters. Snow's not stupid. He's not going to get his panties in a twist over Katniss being pissed at her new job. He expects it. Hope that clears things up.**

A/N 2: This is where the story begins to earn it's "M" rating. Be warned. Also, sorry for the delay, but I have a feeling you'll forgive me when you read it. :)

A/N 3: All errors are mine. If anyone is interested in being a beta, PM me. :)

* * *

**The First Time**

My stomach has been doing flips for over an hour as I prepare myself to lose my virginity. If I'm this worked up over sex with someone I actually care about, how will I ever take sleeping with strangers? This is something I really need to talk to Finnick about. But first, I need to do this. In reality, I _want_ to do this. I just wanted to wait. Take my time. Go slow. And I feel like I'm being forced to rush a relationship with Peeta that should have had time grow naturally.

But there is no point in dwelling on what could be. This is what is. And the fact that Peeta is in my life is blessing enough, really. Because, honestly, I could be facing this alone. I shake my head, trying to stop dwelling on the future and the past. I want to live in the moment, if just for tonight.

I've already told my mother I plan to spend most of the evening at Peeta's place on Capitol business. She's not happy, but she has also come to the realization that she cannot really tell me what to do. It nothing personal, but just like Peeta, after the Games none of us need parents any more. Then again, I'd been living without parents for years. She knows she cannot step in and pretend to be a mother now. The best she can hope for is that I'll trust her. And I am trying. Giving me my space is the best thing she can do for me.

Looking at the clock on my bedroom wall, I take a deep breath and get dressed. I'm not exactly sure what to wear. I don't want to draw attention to myself or what this night means, but at the same time, I don't just want to show up in my hunting clothes. The fancy dresses from the Capitol were certainly out. In the end, I decide on a casual outfit of black silky pants and a fitted blue blouse that I brought home from the Capitol. It is comfortable and attractive and, most importantly, clean.

When I'm dressed and ready, I skip down the stairs, kissing Prim on the forehead before shooting my mother an awkward smile. "I'll be back late," I say and she just nods warily. I see the amused smirk on Prim's face and stick my tongue out at her before leaving the house and walking next door. This is it.

* * *

So, apparently, my love for the bakery's cheese buns is more obvious that I thought. Peeta smirks at me as I finish off a third. "I'm always amazed how much food you can put away," he says.

I pout at him before taking another bite. "You try starving for months and see how much you eat when presented with the opportunity."

He sobers a bit and nods. "True. I've never starved."

"Hey," I say, smiling at him to convey that I'm not trying to take a shot at him. I know that I have a tendency to be defensive, but with Peeta, I think we are mostly past all of that. "It's not a crime to have more money than some."

"It is when you don't do anything to help the people who don't have what the need," he counters.

"Ah," I say. "But you did do something."

He just smiles at me and takes my hand in his. "Save room for dinner. I made it myself." I'm surprised. As a seventeen-year-old boy, I can't imagine he's spent a lot of time in the kitchen, but I've been wrong about Peeta before.

"I'm waiting," I say, laughing at the look on his face. He hops up from the table and over to the stove behind me to dish up what smells like our dinner. And it smells good.

"Here," he says placing the plate in front of me. "Full disclosure, I got the recipe from my father. It's one of his favorites, but my mother doesn't like to make it."

"Squirrel Pie?" I ask, smiling down. I've had it once. It's delicious, but usually I never had enough ingredients to make it. Dough was hard to come by. Well, not for a baker, I suppose. And not for me now, I guess. I am rich after all.

"Yes," he smiles and sits across from me with his own plate. I smile back and dig into my food, though with a little less gusto now that I've consumed three cheese buns.

"It's so good," I gush, still not used to full warm meals three time a day, even though I've been consuming them since the Reaping.

"Thanks," he blushes, and I smile to myself. I smile far more when Peeta's around. In fact, more than half of District 12 would tell you I'm unable to smile. How can you not smile around this boy with infinite optimism?

We eat in relative silence, and I know we are both nervous about what is to come. It the elephant in the room that we are both trying to ignore, but soon enough there will be no hiding what we are here for tonight. Sex. And I haven't the first idea what I'm doing. I wonder if he does?

I can't imagine Peeta has much experience. We live in a small district. Who is screwing who is common knowledge, and I've _never_ heard of Peeta being seen at the slag heap. He was close friends with Delly Cartwright, but I think she's about as likely to be frequenting the slag heap as I am.

Still, he has two older brothers who have been known to get around. And well, didn't boys just know these things? I often wondered if fathers sat down with their sons and explained to them the things our mothers never felt comfortable explaining to _us. _

At the very least I know it's going to hurt. Madge had told me that. Not that she has any more experience than I, but she did have friends with experience. From what she gathered, it's basically excruciating. Yet another reason not to let some old guy in the Capitol do it to me. Then again, do I really want Peeta to hurt me?

I suppose I don't have a great deal of choice. At least I know Peeta will be understanding, gentle, and kind. This is the best I can hope for. It probably won't be mind bending, or life altering, but it will be safe and hopefully as comfortable as possible.

"Katniss, are you sure?" Peeta asks me, his voice somber as he gives me a serious look.

"Huh?" I ask, inelegantly as I'm pulled from my internal thoughts.

"You look like you are going to puke, Katniss," Peeta says, his tone lighter, but I can see that he's a bit hurt. "I don't want you to do this if you are having second thoughts."

"No!" I answer immediately. "It's not that. I just - well, I have no experience and I'm nervous. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Of course," he says, sighing with relief. "I'm nervous too," he admits and I say a silent thank you to the universe that I'm cared for by a man who has no problem expressing himself. I need that, because I'm so terribly awful at it.

"I hate the thought that you are doing this because you feel you have to, not because you want to," he admits.

"I do want to. I just wanted to wait," I admit. "I think we should just stop worrying about _that_. It doesn't make anything easier. I've made my choice, and I have no second thoughts. I'm just nervous and a bit scared. I think its normal," I explain. Saying exactly what I'm thinking, aloud, is not easy. I stumble over nearly every word, but I force it out anyway, and I'm grateful that Peeta at least understands me and my limitations.

"Okay," he smiles finally. "You are right. I won't pester you all night making sure you don't want to back out." he chuckles to himself and I smile, relief washing over me. That would not help anything.

"Here," I offer, standing with the plates. "I'll wash up. You did cook, after all."

"Oh, no," he says, standing with me and shaking his head. "Not a chance. This is a date. You'll do nothing but enjoy yourself."

"Date?" I ask, cocking my eyebrow at him.

"Well, I'd like to think of it that way," he says without hesitation.

"Okay," I say, smiling awkwardly at him. "A date." He smiles brightly at me and shoves me toward the parlor where he explains he'll be there in a minute.

I rub my hands nervously together as I look around the room awkwardly. This is happening. No turning back. The largest part of me is nervous, but there is a significant part of me that is...excited. I haven't been celibate because I'm some moralist prude. I've simply never had an interest in sex before. It always seemed like something frivolous that girls with no worries had time to obsess over. Of course Madge and I had discussed it before. We are normal teenage girls. And I always assumed I'd eventually have sex, and my wish was that it would be good. The kind of good that some of the more promiscuous girls in school would constantly yammer on about.

I wonder what it will be like with Peeta. Will he be gentle? Will he be too gentle? He's so soft and caring. I don't know if I want the sex to be that way or not. I really have nothing to compare to. I suppose I only can wait to see what happens, right?

"Hey," Peeta says, as he sits next to me after several moments of introspection on my part. I smile up at him.

"Hey," I say. In the time he's cleaned up the kitchen I can tell something has changed. He's more confident. He's not nearly as shaky, and he has a calmness about him that instantly sets me at ease. I have no idea what pep-talk he just gave himself, but it worked, and for that I'm grateful.

"Come here," he breathes and I can feel his breath ghost against my face. I shiver with anticipation as I lean forward just a few inches before his warm, soft lips envelope mine. I moan against him, feeling the tension dissipate slightly at the feel of his lips on mine and his arms wrapping around me.

I lean back against the cushions and pull him toward me by the collar, never breaking our intense kiss. His hands move up my sides and into my hair, holding my face in place as he plunders my mouth with his tongue. I'll never know how he got so fucking amazing at kissing, but I can't help but feel grateful at the moment for it.

He smells amazing - just like the bakery, with an added touch of Peeta - and I wonder what he's thinking at the moment as we kiss so intensely. He's practically atop me, and I only pull him in closer, my arms around his back as I feel the muscles under the cotton flex as he runs his fingers through me hair.

"Katniss..." he hisses against my mouth as he pulls back for breath. I didn't even realize I needed to breath until he did. I look up into his eyes and see the normally clear blue eyes I'm used to looking into are darker and more intense than I've ever seen them.

"Let's go upstairs," I say, my voice only slightly shaky.

Instead of asking me if I'm sure - thank goodness - he simply nods and pulls back, reaching out to take my hand in his and lead me toward the stairs. I twine my fingers with his as he walks in front of me and i can feel the butterflies start to erupt in the pit of my stomach. This is it.

He leads me down the hall to the master bedroom and pulls me inside, shutting the door tightly behind me. His room looks much like my mothers. I gave her the Master bedroom when we moved into the neighborhood. I never felt comfortable holding the fact that the house was _mine_ over her head.

I shake the strange and disjointed thoughts from my head and focus on Peeta, and on the large bed in the center of the room. "It's nice," I say lamely. Of course it's nice. All of the Victor's homes are.

"Relax," he says with a warm smile as he leads me over to the bed. "We can go as slow as you want. And you can change your mind. I won't hold it against you." I know he's giving me an out. It's thoughtful but unnecessary.

"I'm nervous, but I'm ready, Peeta," I say with a genuine smile. "Come..." I pat the spot next to me on the bed and he gently sits next to me, his hand moving up to my cheek and pulling me face close to his.

"I've wanted this for so long," he admits. "I never thought it would actually happen."

"It's real," I assure him, leaning forward and kissing him. The tension in my stomach is less nerves and more excitement now. His scent is all around me and the feel of his kisses is sensual and powerful. I want to be possessed by this man. Here. Now.

He moans against me and I sigh into his mouth. It's the sexiest sound I've ever heard, and I can feel the heat pooling between my legs. I've felt arousal with Peeta before, but never this intensely. I want to rub my thighs together, but instead I lean back on the bed and pull him with me.

His hands move to my hips as he takes them in both hand and lifts me effortlessly up the bed so that I'm directly in the middle of it, before maneuvering himself between my thighs and settling between them. My hands shuffle through his hair and I grip it tightly in my fingers as I try to devour his mouth.

"Peeta," I moan, as his hips thrust forward and he brushes against the seam of my pants. I blush the minute the word escapes my mouth. I sound wanton, in all honesty.

He groans against me, his eyes closing momentarily as he shifts his hips and I can now feel him against my thigh. He's hard...and big.

"God, Katniss..." he hisses as his mouth moves down to my neck and he kisses the sensitive skin where my neck meets my shoulder. I shiver under him, all nervousness long gone. All I feel is him and I want so much more.

My hands boldly move down to the edge of his pants, pulling his shirt from it's tucked position. I let my warm fingers feel the smoothness of his skin and i feel him tremble. "Can I take this off?" I ask, pulling away and looking up at him.

He nods at me, his mouth already descending on my skin again. I slowly move the material up his body, reveling in the heat of his skin as I uncover more and more. I whip it over his head, breaking our contact for only a moment before his lips are back on my skin, dipping the top of my shirt lower to place hot, open mouth kisses on my collarbone.

My fingers ghost over his torso, and I have to admit, he looks even better than I imagined. The times I saw him half naked in the arena, he was sick and half starved. He certainly didn't look like this. My nails scratch down his back as his lips attach themselves to a particularly sensitive spot on my chest. I can hear the moan that escapes my mouth, and wonder if I sound as desperate to him.

"Can I?" he asks me breathlessly as he toys with the edge of my shirt, his fingers licking at the skin of my stomach. I nod at him and wait for him to pull the shirt over my head and throw it behind him. Skin to skin. It feels perfect.

My arms wrap tightly around his neck as I pull him as close to me as humanly possible and devour his mouth.

"Katniss, fuck..." he groans as my hips roll against his and I pull back, shocked at having heard such a dirty word come from such an innocent mouth.

"Sorry," he blushes. I shake my head instantly.

"No. I like it," I say, blushing in return. He grins at me before kissing me again and moving slowly down my body again. His hand reach around to the clasp of my bra and he tries to unclasp it with one hand, then two. I can tell he's having a difficult time, and I don't want to wait any longer. Reaching behind me with one hand, I unflick the clasp and move my arms back around him, scratching my nails down his back again.

He sighs with relief as he pulls the straps of my bra down and removes it completely. I have no idea where it lands and I don't care because, suddenly I only feel the cool air of the room against my naked nipples. They pucker instantly.

He looks like a child on Christmas, and I can't help it. I giggle. My modesty is forgotten as I see how much he likes what he sees. "Kiss me," I request, pulling at his arm to bring him back down to me. A moan escapes my lips as I feel his smooth skin rub against my sensitive chest.

"Feels good," I pant as his hand comes up my side to cup my breast. He's gentle but firm, and I have to wonder how he learned to hold me, kiss me, touch me, with such confidence and skill. I'm certain he's a virgin. I know he's only had a few passing girlfriends, and nothing serious. Is he simply a natural at turning me inside out with arousal?

My head is spinning with new sensations and I'm instantly jolted out of my own thoughts when I feel his hot mouth wrap around my nipple, his teeth grazing it just slightly. "Peeta!" I cry, my hands going to his hair and clinching it tightly in my fingers.

My legs spread wider, the wetness pooling there becoming unbearable. I've never felt like this before. He continues his assault on breasts, taking one at a time and working me up to a fever pitch.

"Please, Peeta," I pant, pulling him up to look at me.

"What do you want, Katniss?" He asks, his voice husky, and his cock so hard at the juncture of my thighs, I'm tempted to ask him if he's in pain.

"More," I say simply, as I reach down for the button of his pants. His eyes widen for a moment before he nods at me, a sexy smile on his lips, and helps me undo the button and zip on his pants. I use my feet to slide the material down his legs and watch as he kicks them off.

His penis is large. I can see it now, through the thin material of his underwear. It's hard. Harder than I could ever imagine, and my eyes drink him in. I lick my lips in anticipation as I finally voice my desires. "Can you take those off too?" I ask.

'S-sure," he stutters, but he keeps his control and hooks both thumbs into the sides of his underwear and pulls them down, letting me finally see him completely naked. Wow. This boy is fucking beautiful. How in the world did I - of all people - attract his attention.

"Your turn," he says, but his voice is barely audible. I look into his eyes and see his nerves for the first time since he kissed me on the couch of his parlor.

"You are beautiful," I say, trying to ease his tension. I feel silly saying something so...sappy, but it is true, and it does seem to make him feel better because he's between my legs again in seconds and pulling the zip of my trousers down.

He doesn't waste any time, pulling both my pants and my underwear down at the same time and leaving us both completely naked in front of each other. I'm not sure I've ever been completely naked in front of _anyone_ before. Not even Prim. At least not past puberty. I feel self-conscious, but also excited as his eyes take me in completely.

"I've wanted you for so long," he admits, his tone full of awe.

"Then have me," I say, lifting my hips to brush my core against his cock.

"I don't want to rush this," Peeta says, his voice strained. "I want you to enjoy it..."

If sex is anything like what we've been doing, I know I will, but I need him to understand that I'm not scared. I'm ready. "Peeta, please. I want you. I want this. We can explore later. Can you just do this? I'm ready."

He contemplates my request before finally nodding, though I can tell he's still worried that I might not be ready. Unable to tell him what he needs to hear, I take his hand in mine and place it over my lower abdomen. I push his hand slowly down to my dripping wetness and let him feel just how ready I am. "See?" I ask, hoping he understands what I'm trying to tell him.

"Wow," he breathes, looking back up at me. His eyes flare with lust and I feel him atop me again, every inch of my skin touching his. His lips attack mine hard and fast, and my legs wrap around his hips as I pull him close to me.

We kiss for several long moments before he finally pulls back and runs his hands up and down my thighs. "One second," he says, kissing me on the cheek and I almost protest when he moves off the bed.

He comes back with a foil package and I cock an eyebrow at him. How had I forgotten something so important? "Where did you get that?" I ask, thoughts of Ripper knowing what we are doing right now swimming in my head.

"My brother," Peeta blushes. "Don't worry. He gave them to me a long time ago. I didn't have to ask him or anything."

I chuckle and nod, holding my hand out to him to and pulling him back between my legs. He kneels before me, taking his impressive length in hand and rolling the latex on. He looks me in the eye again and I nod, letting him know I'm so ready for this. At this point, whether it hurts or not is the furthest thing from my mind. I just want this.

He lines himself up to me, rubbing the head of his penis back and forth against me, his tip making contact with a spot that makes my back arch. "KAtniss, you are so wet..." he points out, his voice more like a groan.

"Go ahead," I say, my nails digging into his arms. "Do it."

I know he wants to take his time, and maybe later we can, but right now, I just want to feel him inside me. Luckily he takes no more convincing. Suddenly I feel him pushing into me.

"Oh," I say, as the uncomfortable feeling of being stretched take over.

"You okay?" he pants, and I can tell he's barely holding onto control.

"Yes," I lie. "Do it fast, Peeta. Like ripping off a bandage."

I can tell he doesn't like the sound of that, but I need him to go faster. This slow pushing hurts too much. Finally though, he rears back and thrusts into me completely. I hear a yelp from come from my mouth, but all I can think about is the burning between my legs. Perhaps I should have picked someone much smaller to do this with the first time.

But as I look up at Peeta and see the intense concern etched on his face, I'm reminded that I chose him for a reason. No matter how much it hurts, he deserves this, and he will respect it more than any other person I know. "Just give me a sec," I manage between gulps of air.

He looks like he wants to apologize, but I'm glad he doesn't. He had nothing to be sorry for. I take a few deep breaths and let myself relax until the burning dulls and I can just feel him within me. It's an incredible sensation. "You can go now," I say, smiling up at him, and I hope he can tell that I'm really okay now.

He leans down, not moving his hips yet, and kisses me slowly, tenderly, and full of feeling. The pain is gone now, and I just feel completely connected to him. Ever so slowly he begins moving out and back in.

It's not an intense feeling. It's subtle, but his cock messaging my internal walls definitely makes me moan. He picks up the pace, moving faster in and out of me, and his mouth moves off of mine as he moans against the skin of my neck. "Katniss..." he breathes. I love the way he says my name normally, but like this...It's the best sound I've ever heard.

His hands move to my hips as he thrusts in and out with more force. "Okay?" he asks.

I just nod, not sure if I can string any words together. I feel tension growing within me, especially as the hair around his cock brushes me with every thrust. "Mmm, yes..." I cry as I feel myself coiling up inside.

"I'm not going to last," Peeta warns. "I'm sorry, Katniss..." He sounds like he's barely hanging on, and I smile up at him.

"Let go," I say. I don't wish for him to feel bad. This is his first time too, and he can't control himself. His thrusts increase in pace and force until he lets out a loud grunt followed by the most incredibly sexy moan I've ever heard. I can actually feel him pulse inside me as he comes undone on top of me.

When he's finished, he pulls out of me and tosses the condom in the wastebasket by his bed. I pull him close to me, letting him tremble in my arms and I feel content. I still feel intense arousal between my legs, but I ignore it, focusing on Peeta instead.

"You didn't come," he points out.

"It's okay," I assure him. "That was good anyway."

"No," he says, shaking his head and propping himself up on one arm. "You have to come."

I look down at his deflating penis, and cock an eyebrow at him. "I can make you come in other ways," he say, his tone confident and sexy again.

"Yeah?" I ask dumbly. I know so little. I mean, of course I've heard things. But I guess I should be thanking my lucky stars that Peeta has brothers because I'm guessing that is where he got his information from.

"Yeah..." he says, his sexy drawl enough to make my vagina clinch. His fingers waste no time. Suddenly, I'm shocked into a gasp as he gathers the wetness at my opening before moving back up to that spot...Holy Shit!

My legs spread wide as I let him touch me however he wants to, his index and middle fingers rubbing circles around this one spot that sets my body on fire. "Oh fuck!" I cry, my head rolling back on the pillow. The intense tension I'd felt to this point was nothing to what Peeta was doing to my body now.

"Relax, Katniss. Just let go," he coos into my ear and the smell of him against me as his fingers worked my body like he knew exactly what he was doing was enough. The coils winding inside me let go at the exact same moment and I clutch the blankets next to me as I moan out his name, my body shaking and quaking as I feel the most absolute relief run through every cell of my body.

I'm panting and Peeta is grinning by the time I am aware of my surroundings again. "That was..."

"I know," he says smiling as he kisses me on the forehead. "I only wish I could have lasted longer."

"Next time," I assure him, my eyes already droopy. God, I need sleep.

His expression is priceless as he grins at me like a fool when I suggest there will be a next time. I just smirk and him and roll over, letting him drape his naked body behind me as I drift off.


	7. Summons

**A/N: Thanks for the patience guys. Still no beta, so errors are mine. Thanks for the lovely feedback! Please enjoy! :)**

* * *

**Summons**

Peeta mumbles something akin to 'don't leave', as I slip out of bed and redress.

"I have to," I explain, though the warmth of his bed is hard to abandon. We dozed for a few hours before I woke up and noticed it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. My mother knew I'd be out late, but I don't want to worry her any more than I need to. If I could have stayed, I certainly would have.

Peeta pouts in to the pillow and i smile and give him a kiss on the cheek. "I had a really good time tonight," I tell him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He groans but nods and he's soon back to sleep. I can't help but chuckle a little at him. He's like a small boy, clinging to his sleep with both hands. I skip down the stairs and shove my shoes back on quickly before heading out of Peeta's house and walking over to my own.

I feel slightly giddy. It's an unusual feeling for me. I'm not one who is prone to getting lost in the moment enough to actually feel a sense of bubbling joy, but tonight was amazing. It was better than I expected, and even with the grey cloud looming before me in the form of Snow and his rich disgusting men, I can only think about the way Peeta bit his lip and groaned as he came inside me.

I slip into my own house as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake the house. It seems, however, my mother has waited up. _Fuck. _

"Mom," I reply as I see her waiting for me in the parlor on the way to the stairs. It's obvious she had something on her mind, and I can only guess that by my appearance, it's pretty obvious what I've been up to.

"Did you have a good time?" she asks. It seems a strange thing to ask, but I can only assume she hasn't much idea what to say to me.

"Yes," I say, eying the stairs. They are my freedom. But running won't solve anything. Better to let her get her lecture out of the way before I go back to bed. I don't want to be dealing with this tomorrow too.

"It's late," she continues, and I barely control the urge to roll my eyes at her. If I want to be taken seriously, I can't act like a child.

"Yes. I fell asleep," I explain.

She's silent then, for a long moment, and I think she must be finished, so I move toward the stairs again.

"Did you use protection?" she asks me, her tone more harsh than I've heard in a long time. I'm taken aback not by her words but her tone. It's a relevant question, really.

"Of course," I say. I'm not going to deny it. She knows. And she knows that I know that she knows.

"Katniss, you are only sixteen-years-old," she finally says, getting to the crux of her point, finally.

I sigh and lean back against the cart that usually holds our tea service. "Mother, please," I say, as calmly as I can manage. "I'm sixteen years old. But I'm far older than that inside. I care a great deal about Peeta, and he cares for me too. I'm too old to be told what to do, and, in all honestly, you should not have any right to question my judgement. I kept us alive for years when you did nothing." I see her flinch at my words and I know they are harsh, but they are true.

"I've done everything I was supposed to do. I've taken care of us, and I've been responsible. Why would you think anything different now that I'm having sex?" I ask. I want to tell her her fears are misplaced anyway. My sleeping with Peeta was a Godsend. He is protecting me and caring for me in a way that I'll need to hold onto when I go to the Capitol to be pawed at like a piece of meat. But I can't tell her those things, and in all honesty they are not relevant. The fact is, even without Snow's schemes, if I want to sleep with my boyfriend, I will.

She looks at me with glassy eyes and I can tell I've hit a nerve, but she swallows hard and nods. "I know you are responsible, Katniss. Don't think I don't know what you've done for us. But I just worry that you are rushing into this under emotional strain," she explains. My face softens.

"I know what I'm doing," I tell her. "And Peeta is the last person you have to worry about hurting me." I smile at that, and she does too.

"I know," she said. "He is very much like his father. Kind hearted," she says. "Now, go on up to bed. It's late."

I sigh with relief and follow her instructions, barely getting my clothes off before I'm fast asleep in my own bed.

* * *

The letter comes in the middle of the day. Honestly, President Snow wastes no time. He broke Peeta and me up less than 48 hours ago - although, it seems like a lifetime - and now he's ready for me to 'pay my dues'.

My stomach twists in tight knots as I read the letter for the fifth time:

**_Miss Everdeen,_**

**_The train will arrive to collect you late this evening at 2:00am. It would be best if we avoided a scene by not having an audience._**

**_Coriolanus Snow  
President of Panem_**

Short and to the point. Of course, who would I invite to see me off? My mother? Not likely. Gale? Do I look insane? Peeta? Hell no. I needn't make this any harder on him than it already is.

No. I don't want any one to witness my humiliation. I do, however, wish I had someone to talk to. No longer a virgin or not, I haven't the slightest idea how to be sexy or to seduce men. I sigh and pick up the telephone, punching in the number I've memorized since he gave it to me, I call Finnick.

Of course. No fucking answer.

* * *

I inform my mother and Prim that I will be gone to the Capitol for the foreseeable future. Telling Gale is even harder. He doesn't want to see reason on this issue. I can't imagine how he'd be if he knew what I was really going to the Capitol for. Certainly he'd get himself killed.

The stress of explaining myself over and over wears on me, and I decide I should talk to Haymitch as well. Better he be kept aware than not. And Peeta will trust him more than anyone, I'm sure.

"What do you want, Sweetheart?" He asks me when the door swings open.

"I just wanted to tell you I'll be leaving for the Capitol tonight," I say with as much dignity as possible. His eyes flash remorse for a moment before he schools his features.

"Chin up," he says. "They only own you if you let them."

"They pretty much own me," I scoff. "I can't do anything about it."

"Your body, they own, Sweetheart. It's not the same thing." It's hard for me to agree with him at the moment with overwhelming fear boiling up inside me, but I know to some extent what he's saying is the only thing that will get me through this. They can have my body. But my heart and mind are mine. They will _never_ have those.

"I tried to call Finnick," I say, leaning against the door jam. "He didn't answer."

"He might be in the Capitol already." Haymitch shrugs. I hadn't thought of that.

"Okay, well, I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. Just...be there for him, okay?" I say, knowing he'll know exactly who I'm talking about.

"Baby sitting the bread boy, am I?" he says, but there is a smirk on his lips.

"Shut up, Haymitch," I say, but I smile at him anyway. I know he'd take care of Peeta if need be anyway. I turn to leave and as I'm halfway down the steps, he calls to me again.

"Just be nice to them, okay, Sweetheart?" he says, and I know that even with the light tone, he's telling me something. I cannot let it be known I'm doing this against my will. Somehow, I have to make them believe I want it. I shudder at the thought. I nod and make my way over to Peeta's house.

It was nearly dusk and I want to spend my last moments - for who knows how long - with Peeta. I knock lightly at his door and he smiles brightly as he opens it "Hi!" he says enthusiastically, and I giggle lightly at him.

"Hi," I reply, stepping inside as he moves from the doorway. He seems hesitant to touch me though, and I realize, I never made it perfectly clear that last night wasn't just a one-off. Leaning in, I kiss him lightly on the lips and he smiles warmly at me, taking my hand in his and leading me into the parlor.

"I thought you'd come by earlier," he says, after several long moments of silence.

"Yeah," I say, nervously playing with the end of my braid. "I received my first summons from Snow." I swallow hard, looking down at my lap.

"Already?" he asks, and his voice is breathless and tense.

I nod. "This morning. I leave tonight at two."

"Fuck..." he mutters and I can't help but whole-heartedly agree with him. I look up at him and see his jaw tensing as rage blazes behind his eyes. I know he's thinking the same thing I did this morning. We knew this was coming, but to some extent, both of us hoped it just wouldn't.

"Come here," I say, patting the spot next to me on his plush love seat. Slowly he follows my instructions and sits next to me, but his body is almost pulsating with tension. "Peeta, please..." I say not really sure what I'm asking him.

"I just need a minute," he chokes, and I see his fists clinching in time with his jaw. What he's thinking I'd love to know. His breathing is heavy and strained and I bite my lip in hopes of holding my own emotions in. Maybe telling him everything was a bad idea. All i feel is shame and remorse for hurting him.

"Should I go?" I finally ask, when it seems he's not calmed down a bit.

"No!" he cried, reaching out for my hand and holding it tightly in his. "I'm sorry. It's just..."

"I know," I say. "Don't you think I know? Last night was amazing, and I'd almost begun to feel like this was all just a nightmare. I don't want to go. I don't want to be with anyone but you, especially not them. I'm not prepared. I have no idea what to do that won't get everyone I love killed. But I have to!" I cry, my voice getting more shrill with each sentence.

Finally, he seems to calm down, and he wraps both arms around my shoulders. "You are right. I'm supposed to be comforting you. I'm not supposed to get wrapped up in my own head."

"It's okay. I can't blame you," I say with a sigh. "If I were in your position, I'd be inconsolable. I just...I need you to keep calm. At least until I get on that train. And I need you to stay calm for my family, and Gale. If they suspect..." I shudder thinking about what could happen if they defy Snow or the Capitol.

He nods as he pulls me into him, resting my head on his chest. "I wish I could protect you," he says.

"You are helping me more than you know," I breathe against him, my fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt. I look up at him and I know, the only thing that I need right now is him. Feeling him, on me, against me, in me. I need it. I need more than just last night. I need to cling to it as I go into the lion's den.

"I want you," I say, looking up at him and his eyes double in size. He says nothing, however. He simply shifts so that he's sitting back against the couch and pulls me to straddle his lap.

He pulls my head down and fiercely kisses me, his hands tangled in my braid, and mine working up his shirt. Clothes flight in a fit of urgency and I sigh in relief when I feel his naked skin against mine, his warm, hard cock jutting up against my thigh.

I'm unskilled, but I know what I want and I waste no time in gripping him tightly in my hands and maneuvering him to the apex of my thighs. I'm wet and I can feel him slide through my folds, forcing him to brush against my clit. I hiss as I rock my hips back and forth letting him slide against the outside of me.

"Fuck, Katniss..." he groans, his head coming forward to rest against the side of my neck. His breathing is harsh and I know he needs it as much as I do.

Slowly, I move him to my entrance and slide down on him until he's fully seated inside me. There is no pain this time, only unusual fullness and it feels so amazing I let my eyes roll into the back of my head and moan aloud.

His finders move up my sides to my breasts as he takes them both in hand and leans back, arching his hips into me, filling me even more. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I move up his length and then back down.

"God, Katniss. It feels so good," he mutters, his eyes never leaving mine as I ride him. I'm hesitant at first. I've obviously never done this before, and it's a little awkward, until I work into a rhythm that makes my insides turn to mush and my thighs shake with pleasure.

"Peeta..." I groan as he shifts his hips so that he's hitting a spot within me that makes me want to scream with joy. My nails bite his skin as I push up and down, faster and faster. I can feel that tingling sensation I felt last night coming on fast. God, it felt so much more intense with his hard length inside of me.

"Love, I'm close. I have to...So wet...No condom..." he pants and I barely understand anything he's said because I'm careening over the edge.

"Ahh, Peeta!" I cry and it sounds more like a shriek to my own ears, but I'm too far gone to care. My body is shaking and pulsing in ways I didn't even know were possible and just as my toes curl with the last of my climax I feel suddenly empty.

Peeta pulls out quickly and lets out the sexiest moan as he comes all over my stomach and chest. Panting hard he relaxes underneath me and I collapse atop him.

"I can't move," I mutter. "I think I'm paralyzed."

He chuckles lazily underneath me and kisses the side of my head. "I'll take that as a compliment."

When my brain is functioning again, I look down between us and blush. "Sorry," I mumble. I can't believe I didn't even consider protection before I jumped him. For someone who never wanted kids, I'm sure not acting like it. "I didn't think..."

"No harm done," he smiles. "Besides, feeling you, the real you, around me..." he shudders with pleasure and grins up at me. "I'll pull out any day if I can feel you against me and not latex."

I smile at him, and neglect to say what I'm really thinking. Which is, I'm pretty certain Snow will have me on some pretty effective birth control next time around. I needn't ruin the moment with realities.

"Come, let's get cleaned up," he said, maneuvering from under me and taking my hand in his. I feel self-conscious at being stark naked in front of him. Of course, I know it's ridiculous. He's seen me naked enough by now. But it just seems less comforting when we aren't fucking.

I suck it up, though. I'll have to get used to being naked in front of far more threatening people than Peeta. Better get used to it now.

* * *

I spend the rest of the evening with Peeta. I watch him paint. He watches me read. We are never more than a few feet from each other. And when the time comes, I kiss him on the lips and tell him, "I'll be okay."

"I'll be here," he says, a catch in his throat. I smile and head out the door with nothing but the clothes on my back. I'm well aware everything I'll need will be provided for me.

The walk out to the train tracks is fairly short. Because trains only come for official Capitol business, and because that _usually_ only means for the Hunger Games. They are nearest the Victor's Village.

Of course the massive train is already there even though I show up early. It's silent, but the lights are blinding. I wonder how the rest of the district stays so oblivious to it's presence. Though, I'll admit, I'm relieved. I do not need an audience.

A Capitol attendant wordlessly helps me aboard the train and I try my best to keep the knots forming in my stomach at bay. Will I be alone on this train? Are we picking up other victors turned Capitol whores? Will Snow be here? The thought sends panic into my chest.

"Katniss?" a gentle masculine voice calls behind me. I spin around at the familiar sounds.

"Cinna?" I breathe. He smiles at me, though it doesn't reach his eyes.

"I'm here to help," he says simply.

"Me too," another male voice says, and through the shadows I see the form of Finnick Odair.


	8. First Date

**A/n: Hey guys. I know some of you are scared/worried about Katniss' future and her obligations in the Capitol. Stick with me. It's going to be a hard, bumpy, and a bit angsty ride, but I have a vision. This chapter is not for the faint of heart. There is an M rating for a reason. **

* * *

**First Date**

To say I'm surprised is an understatement. While I understand why Finnick might be on the train, Cinna is a complete shock to me. I can't say, however, that I'm disappointed. The familiar face is welcome, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Help? What do you mean?" I finally ask, moving over to the plush couches in the lounge car. Both men follow me, getting comfortable on the sofa across from me.

"Well, you didn't think President Snow would risk his reputation by throwing you to the wolves without some direction, did you?" Finnick smirked. "In reality, he's not a moron. He knows you are about as ill-prepared for this as one can be. As much as he doesn't care how that might affect _you_," he sneers the last sentence, and I know he's thinking of personal experience, "he does have high paying customers, and they don't want a cold fish in bed."

Well, that was rather blunt, but I've found that Finnick has a tendency to call it like it is. I appreciate it, actually. I nod. "Okay, but why are you here, Cinna?"

"I'm your stylist, after all," he says with a smirk on his face. "I requested the job. I believe President Snow thinks my presence will make you more...accommodating."

I snort. "I'm only accommodating because I want my family to live," I point out.

"Of course," he concedes. "Still, we have two days to prepare you for this, and I'm certain we are going to need every minute," Cinna says. He has a sadness in his eyes and I know he feels sorry for me. Normally, such pity would irritate me, but he's a friend and I know his care is genuine.

"First, off to bed," Finnick says, taking on his role as my master for the next two days. "You'll be up bright and early tomorrow."

I nod, conceding to his point and hug Cinna on my way toward the sleeping cars. My last thoughts before sleep takes me over are about Peeta and the feel of his warm body pressed against mine.

* * *

"Oh yes, that's very sexy. Nice duck walk, Katniss," Finnick says sarcastically as I try to walk in the unbelievably high heels Cinna has squished my feet into.

"These are ridiculous!" I snap. "Why can't I wear normal shoes?"

"Because normal shoes do not make your ass look this grabable," Finnick says simply. "And because you are going to be with Capitolites now. You have to blend in."

"Wait," Cinna says, as he sees steam coming from my ears and my movements shifting to attack Finnick with my bare hands. "I think we can compromise. She doesn't have to wear such high heals, and we can give her more support."

Finnick sighs but nods. "Fine," he gives in. "Let's take a break and talk about what's expected of you."

"Goody," I snap sarcastically. "First, can I ask a few questions."

"Of course," Finnick says as I kick off the torture devices they call shoes and plop down on the couch. Cinna takes the shoes and runs off to put them away and find something more suitable.

"How does it work?" I ask. "Obviously I know they've paid for me. They know that I know they've paid for me. Do I just show up and take my clothes off?"

"No," Finnick chuckles. "They pay for an experience, not just the sex. They want to see and be seen with you. Most of them will take you out so the media can see you. They think they desire _you_ even if they don't know you. They've deluded themselves with the media image. They want your company. And they want to possess you. They will take you out. Wine and dine you. They will want conversation. Then, they will want your body. Most of them will make the first move. Sometimes, though..."

"Sometimes what? They expect _me_ to initiate this nonsense?" I ask sharply.

"Rarely, but sometimes. You have to learn to read the situation," Finnick explains.

"Perfect," I roll my eyes. "Why the hell Snow wants me to do this, I have no idea. I'm the world's worst conversationalist. I'm as charming as a slug. And I have a total of two sexual experiences."

Finnick looks at me sympathetically. "Look, we'll start off easy. You know Cinna will take care of your look. He's brilliant. He can even help you with your walk and body language. You and he will work on that next. But I can help you with the conversation. The number one, most important rule is to be amenable and mysterious."

I sigh. This is going to be fucking miserable. He goes on to role play some conversations with me, little by little moving me out of my comfort zone with touches and caresses that I'd never allow anyone if it weren't for the dire situation I've found myself in.

I do begin to relax slightly though. The easiest way to do this is to pretend I'm acting. In reality, it's just about the only thing that gets me through it.

"We'll work more later. You need to be less stiff. You need to pretend you want to be there as much as they want you there," Finnick explains. "But it's good progress."

I'm getting a headache. I'm unbelievably relieved when Cinna interrupts to start my lessons in body language. I never thought I'd be looking forward to that.

* * *

"You are much better at this than you were only months ago," Cinna smirks. "Something change?"

I blush and look down. I know the only thing that has made me more openly sexual is my pretending that I'm doing everything for Peeta. "Not really," I lie. Cinna chuckles warmly and just motions for me to continue the move he's just taught me. I feel confident and sexy in the ensemble he's put me in, and the shoes are much more manageable. As much as I hate the idea of all of this, the confident sexiness is a bit exhilarating.

"I have one more thing for you," Cinna says, pulling me over toward the window seat of the train car we've been practicing in. "It's for birth control," he explains, pulling out a syringe.

"A-Are you qualified to do that?" I ask nervously, eyeing the long needle.

He smirks at me. "Surprisingly, working in the world of cosmetics in the Capitol requires quite a steady hand with the needle."

I swallow and nod, holding my arm out for him. The pinch is instantaneous and I wince. "The affect is immediate and lasts three months," Cinna explained. "It won't affect you ability to become pregnant later should you wish to."

I nod again. Well, that's one less thing to worry about.

"Katniss, I'm really sorry this has happened to you," Cinna finally says after a moment of silence. His face is serious and I feel such warmth for him at the moment. "I can't imagine what you must think of all of us."

"Not all of you," I say, shaking my head. "I know not everyone in the Capitol is vain and vapid."

"I never wanted this fate for you. I'd hoped that with you being with Peeta..." his sentence dropped off, but I know what he means. Peeta's relationship with me was supposed to protect me from this sort of thing. If I hadn't inadvertently started a rebellion, maybe it would have.

"I know," I say, my throat closing with emotion. "Just help me do this right so that everyone is safe."

He sobers up and nods. "Of course."

* * *

"So, how much sex did you manage to fit in with Lover Boy?" Finnick asks as he shoves a handful of capitol candies in his mouth.

"Classy," I remark with disdain.

"Oh, come on, Katniss," he grins. "We know you did him. I need to know your experience level."

"We only did it twice," I say, blushing bright red. "And before you ask, it was just normal sex. No kinky additions."

"Hmmm," he says. "Okay, then we'll start from there."

"The first lesson is in dealing with the aggressive client," he starts, and my eyes dart to Cinna who's uncomfortably observing. I think he's stuck around mostly for moral support.

"Okay," I say, swallowing back what I _want_ to say about a potentially aggressive asshole pawing at me.

"This is going to be a bigger problem for you than it is for me, I admit. But the rules are the same. You must do whatever you are asked readily and willingly. Some of them might get rough, and when they do, you cannot defend yourself."

"WHAT?" I shout. I hadn't expected that. Sure, I can't attack a client. But what is he saying exactly? I have to just sit there and take it if they abuse me?

"I know it's unnatural. I know it's wrong. Please don't shoot the messenger," Finnick says, his tone irritated. "It's not likely you'll come across an abusive client. They don't want to incur Snow's wrath. But if it does happen, you cannot retaliate or fight back. Understood."

I grit my teeth. "Fine," I bite out, my jaw tight.

"Katniss, don't worry too much about what will probably not happen," Cinna says gently.

"There are other kinds of aggressive clients, though," Finnick continues. "Much more likely. They will not be gentle and they will take what they want, giving very little in return." I nod, expecting most of my 'clients' to be like this. "It can be very painful if you aren't...prepared."

I blush at this, nearly choking on a cough. "I get the idea, Finnick. I'll be...prepared." I've already considered this problem. Nerves might hinder my abilities, but Peeta's memory is still strong enough to make me wet on a dime. As long as that remains true, I'll be okay.

"Okay," Finnick says, seemingly happy to move from that topic. "Now, as to positioning. Is there anything that you can think of that you don't think you'll be able to perform comfortably?"

God, this conversation is personal. To go from no sexual interest to talking about every aspect of sex with a near stranger is much harder than one might think. "Well," I start. I haven't really thought about it. Sex is sex, even in different positions, right? The violation is the same whether I'm bent over or on top, is it not? Then again, there's more to sex than just traditional...

Oh fuck. "Well, I've never...I mean, I don't know how to..." It is so hard to get the words past my lips. "I've never performed oral sex," i finally say in one rushed out breath. Finnick nods as me as if he's expected this.

"It's not so hard as you think," he says before clinically explaining to me the basic technique.

Another idea strikes me, and suddenly there _is_ something I'm terrified of. "What about...anal sex?" I ask, ignoring how my cheeks burn at the question.

Finnick sighs, "Unfortunately, it's likely that some will want it. And the best advice I can give you is to relax."

"Thanks," I say sarcastically. I really hope he's wrong.

"Sorry," he says, smiling slightly. "Now, to more passive clients."

I nod, ready to listen to his next round of advice. "Usually the passive ones are happy with whatever you do. Be confident, be sexy, and make them think you are so happy to be with them, and you can get away with almost anything," he says. "Honestly, those are the easiest jobs."

Pray that I get only passive clients.

"It's a lot for one night, Finnick," Cinna tells him gently. "I think she has enough for the moment."

Finnick nods and I breathe a sigh of relief. Tomorrow we will be at the Capitol, and i don't think I can cram any more information in my head.

* * *

Cinna does my entire beauty routine himself. Which is a blessing, really. I still have to have my entire body waxed, but I don't have to deal with the mindless chatter and constant shock at my lack of maintenance. Not that, maybe, I shouldn't try and take some of Cinna's expertise back home. Of course, I'll never be vain. But Peeta does deserve to know that I try, right?

I've pushed him out of my head as much as possible, but as I step into my shoes and prepare to disembark from the train and directly to President Snow's private guest house where Victors are known to stay for their duration in the Capitol, his face crosses my mind. I wonder how he's doing. I wonder _what_ he's doing.

"Ready?" Finnick asks, as he squeezes my hand. Cinna pats my back and I do my best to smile.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I say, the butterflies doing backflips in my stomach. They aren't the excited kind, either. They are the terrified kind. I squeeze Finnick's hand in return. "Thank you, Finnick," I say. I know I've been rather bitchy to him, but he's helped me so much. Without him, I'd likely be executed before my first 'date' is over.

"We'll be together in the house," he says. "Don't worry. Tonight will be the hardest." I nod in understanding and drop his hand before pasting on a smile and following him out of the train and into the waiting press.

It's a whirlwind of activity from the minute we arrive. The Capitol loves Finnick even more than I, so the heat is less on me, which is nice. But I am 'fresh meat' and all anyone seems to want to ask me is about how I'm dealing with Peeta's betrayal.

Following Finnick and Cinna's advice, I play it cool, saying "We are still friends," though, if the story were true, I'd find that very hard to believe. It's all smiles and waves and then we are in the house. I breathe a sigh of relief.

My reprieve lasts all of a half hour, until President Snow arrives to give me my orders. Finnick is polite and at ease, and I have no idea how he can be so relaxed around this disturbing man. I guess years of practice.

I have a 'date' tonight and I'm given a none-too-subtle reminder that if I do not perform above and beyond, every person I love will suffer the consequences. I wonder if he really thinks that is the best strategy to get me to relax enough to do his bidding.

When he leaves, Finnick talks me down and helps me relax. He has a 'date' tonight as well. A client who often pays for his services, and he feels at ease with her. I wonder if I'll have 'regulars'. I shake my head at the thought.

Cinna helps me pick my clothes for the evening. I'll be attending a party in my honor with a Mr. Charm Bungleton. I know nothing about him but that he will fetch me in less than two hours. I swallow as I look at the sexy lingerie that is set out before me, as well as the bright red dress that looks like it will be several sizes too small. Cinna assures me it will fit.

Sighing, I get dressed and let Cinna do his magic with my hair and make-up. I'm transformed from Katniss Everdeen, District 12 Victor, to a dramatic sex kitten within an hour. I feel uncomfortable in this skin, but I suppose it will help me to get into character. When I look in the mirror, I don't recognize myself. Perhaps that's for the best. I itch to call Peeta, but I decided it's better I don't. For one, it might upset Snow enough to take it out on me later. And secondly, it wouldn't do anything but upset Peeta. I push him from my mind and walk out into the main room of the guest house.

Finnick whistles at me, causing me to blush, though i can't control the grin that passes my lips. I check the clock and note the time. 30 minutes. It's just about the longest and most awkward 30 minutes of my life. Finnick doesn't even try to cheer me up. He knows I need to focus. I need this time to prepare myself. To put away District 12 and become Capitol Katniss. The ability to compartmentalize will serve me very well in this endeavor.

The doorbell rings, and I feel my heart nearly stops in my chest. I can feel that painful thumping of anxiety as Finnick wishes me luck and dashes from the room. I immediately go to the door to greet the man who's paid a fortune to fuck me.

I'm surprised. He isn't old. He isn't ugly. He certainly isn't my type, but he's generally attractive, probably no older than thirty, and he's grinning warmly from ear to ear, as if this is a real date. As if I like him. As if I want him to woo me.

"Mr. Bungleton," I greet, proud that my voice comes out clearly. My heart is still racing, but my body is relaxed.

"Oh, Katniss, I feel like we know each other already," he says warmly. "Call me Charm." I want to tell him 'Charm' is a ridiculous name. Then again, I'm named 'Katniss', so what can I say?

"Charm," I say with a smile.

"Shall we?" he asks, offering my his arm like a gentleman. Inside I want to scream that a gentleman doesn't feel the need to buy women like an object. But I simply giggle like a fucking twit and take his arm.

* * *

The party is insufferable. Everyone wants to talk to me, touche me, and tell me how sad they are about me and Peeta. Charm is eating it up. His hands are on me at all times - on the small of my back, on my arms, running through my hair even. He's staking his claim on me, at least for the night. Ugh.

I smile and nod, and try to make conversation where I can, but no miracles are worked tonight. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable conversing freely with everyone I meet. Or most people, actually. Still, I do try.

It seems endless, but I at least feel at ease knowing we are in a room full of people. There will be no inappropriate touching so long as we aren't alone. Charm talks about me but rarely to me, at least not unless someone is around to see him. He is kind, in a completely off putting and phony way. Still, I suppose this could be worse.

When he bids our farewell, I'm overcome with nervous butterflies in the stomach again. He takes my by the arm and leads me to his car again, this time taking a short trip to a very large house in a nearby neighborhood. My mouth falls open involuntarily as I take it in. How can so many people live like this here while all over Panem most can barely feed their children?

I shake the thought from my head. If I let those thoughts in, I'll never be able to do this. I'm a sexy Capitolite. I want to be wined and dined. I want what Charm has to offer. I repeat my mantra and follow him out of the car and up to the extravagant door of his house. All this for one person? I can't imagine what it's like to live like this.

He takes my hand and pulls me up the stairs immediately. "I hope you don't mind," he says, though he doesn't sound like he cares what I mind all that much. "I thought we could get right to the fun." His smile is wide and I smile in return, although I basically want to vomit.

He pulls me into his bedroom. "I've wanted to peel that dress off you all night," he leers at me and I feel like covering myself. Instead, I swallow hard and smile back, hoping it reaches my eyes.

"Why don't you do it now?" I say, coyly.

He's on my instantly, and when he's close enough not to care, I close my eyes and go back to Peeta. I try to imagine him touching me, undressing me, kissing me. I can't lose myself completely, but it's enough to relax me. The smell is wrong. The feel is wrong. But my mental image of Peeta is strong, and I cling to it.

I moan at the appropriate times and let him lead me to his bed. He's what Finnick would call an aggressive client, but he's not harsh. He's using my body for his own joy. He wants to be in charge, but he's gentle as well. I'm grateful for that, at least.

When he's hovering over me, moaning expletives and hot words that would probably elicit a reaction out of me if they were spoken by someone else, I grip the sheets next to me in hopes that this will simply end soon.

I bite down hard on my lip when he enters me. I'm wet enough, but not so wet it's enjoyable. It feels awkward, weird. It feels nothing like it did with Peeta. Not even the discomfort of our first time. At least then, it felt...right. This feels foreign, and I feel somewhat disconnected from my own body.

He grunts and pants atop me, and almost as soon as it began it's over. He pulls out, and with him comes his slick seed dripping down my thighs. I try not to let the fact that he is the first man to ever come inside me hit me too hard. Not right now.

I feel like running from the room. The threat of Snow killing my family is the only thing that keeps me from pushing him off me and leaving immediately. I have to hold myself together. Just a little longer.

"The driver will take you back," he says, as he looks up and down my naked body, and I realize I'm being dismissed. If I weren't so eager to leave, I'd be a bit offended. He literally just screwed me and wants me to leave immediately.

As it is, I'm more than happy to get the fuck out of there. I pull my clothes on quickly, wincing at the uncomfortable slick feeling between my legs. I want him out of me. I guess I can't do much until I get back to the guest house.

I flee down the stairs and out the door where there is a solemn man standing by a different car than the one Charm drove us around in. He lets me in with a curt nod and gets behind the wheel.

My mind is buzzing the entire trip. I can't stop replaying the whole thing in my mind. As far removed as I felt from my body at the time, it was me. I had sex with that self-obsessed man. I let him come inside me and I moaned his name when I had to. I feel disgusted with myself.

Tears well up in my eyes as my shame washes over me. It was as short and mild a session as I could have asked for, and it was fucking awful. It was excruciating and awkward and it made me feel like dirt.

I'm startled when the driver tells me we are here and I clumsily climb out of the care. The driver is gone before I can even thank him. Just as well, I'm seconds away from a break down.

I rush through the door, and don't even bother to look for Finnick. He might not even be home yet. All I want is to get this absurd outfit off and take a shower. I need to wash Charm and the memory of him off me.

The water is hot and I just stand there for a long time before doing anything but letting silent tears fall down my cheeks. I scrub my body over and over, washing between my legs for a solid ten minutes. I still don't feel clean, but at least I know the essence of him is actually gone. I have no idea how long I've been in the shower when I hear a knock on the bathroom door.

"Katniss," Finnick calls from the other side. "I'm back. I'm going to shower."

"Okay," I call back, my voice strained with my sobs. I don't want him to know I've been crying, but I suppose if there is anyone who would understand, it's Finnick.

"Don't stay in there too long," he advises. I say nothing. He must know I never want to leave the hot spray. He must understand that I feel forever tainted and I know it's never going to get better because I will have to do this again and again for who knows how long.

But I do get out of the shower finally, after only a few more sobs to relieve the tension in my chest. I wrap myself up in the most modest flannel pajamas Cinna left me and pad out to the living room to wait for Finnick.

When he emerges, I can tell he's been crying too. "Bad?" I ask.

"Just the usual," he says. "Of course, it's always bad."

I nod at him. I understand him in a way I couldn't have before tonight. "How about you? Did he treat you well?" he asks me.

I shrug. "He didn't hurt me, if that's what you mean. How well can I be treated by someone who bought me for a night of bragging and sex?"

"Touche," he replies.

We don't say anything after that, both of us lost in our own thoughts, but just having him there is endlessly comforting. I hope this is a short trip.


	9. Unclean

**A/N: Warning: mild violence and dubious consent ahead. Possible triggers. It has to get bad before it can get better. **

* * *

****

Unclean

After a week I'm wrecked. President Snow wastes no time or potential money. I have a client every single night. It confuses me how the Capitol people view me. I'm at every red-carpet party, going home with a new man every evening, and they love me more. Back in District 12, I can only imagine what those who have the time or inclination to watch this nonsense must think of me.

My mother and Prim do not watch unless forced. If this isn't mandatory viewing, they are not seeing it. Gale is hard to tell. He hates everything that comes from the Capitol, but he's also a glutton for punishment. If he is watching, does he draw the same conclusions that Snow hopes the rest of Panem will draw? Or does he believe in me. Trust me not to do something so vile? I haven't any idea, and the thought eats away at me.

Peeta has a television now that he lives in the Victor's Village. Has be been watching it? Does he see me with these pompous men? Does it hurt him? For his sake, I hope he's stayed away from the media completely.

These constant thoughts do not help my mental state. On top of feeling dirty, used, and utterly horrified at my own behavior, I deal with the constant guilt of hurting the people I love most. Finnick has been the only thing to keep me sane. I have no idea how I'd have gotten this far without him.

This ordeal is hard for him too. Even as he's been doing this for nearly ten years, every night he is destroyed. I can't imagine what it must be like to do this for so long. After a week I'm ready to go running back to District 12 and never look back. I can't do this for 10 years, I know that.

"I'm going to call Annie," Finnick says to me as we finish up our lunch.

"You can do that?" I ask.

He nods. "We never talk about anything important. I just want to hear her voice. I have three more weeks of clients, and I need something from home."

I frown. I wonder how long I'll be here. No one has told me. "Do you think I should call Peeta?"

"It's up to you," Finnick says. "But if you do, just make sure he doesn't say anything that will make this worse for you."

"He wouldn't do that," I defend hotly.

"Not on purpose, he wouldn't," Finnick agrees. "But anything at all about the situation you are in will make this harder. If you think you can talk to him and _not_ feel worse about yourself, then you should do it. If not, better to deal with that when you go home."

Of course what he says makes sense. The problem is, I don't know if calling him would just make things worse for both of us. I suppose I'll wait until I have a better idea of how long I'll be here.

* * *

Four more weeks. I'm a hot commodity. President Snow is vile as usual when he relays the message with barely restrained glee. It means I have four more weeks of pretending I don't want to murder every single one of these Capitolite bastards in their sleep. Four more weeks of letting men paw at me, fuck me, and fill me to the point where I worry I'll never be able to enjoy touch ever again. Worst of all, that means one week here alone. Without Finnick.

I sigh in frustration. Nothing I can do about it. At least I have an end in sight, for this trip. If I can get by for four more weeks, I'll be home, with Peeta. I'll have a solid month with him before the Victory Tour, and my torture, begin again.

"We are going to get some company for the next few weeks," Finnick informs me, breaking me from my internal pity party. I have an hour or so before Cinna will arrive to help me get ready for my latest client.

"Who?" I ask.

"Her name is Cashmere. She's a Victor from District 1," Finnick explains. I'd forgotten that Finnick and I are not the only ones that are at President Snow's disposal for prostitution. Though, at the moment, it seems he and I are his favorites. I'm new, Finnick is beautiful. I guess it makes sense.

"How is she?" I ask, vaguely recalling her from the Games. She's stunning. Blonde and leggy, and everything I am not. She's also vicious.

"She's interesting," he says with a chuckle. "She's a lot to take in. But she's not so bad. At first, she was insufferable. But she's relaxed over the years and now she's just like any of the rest of us. Just trying to get by client by client until she can go home. She's not called in as often. Lucky her," he says wistfully.

I nod. As long as she is civil to me, I'll be fine with her. Perhaps new blood will make the time go faster.

* * *

"Jewels," Cashmere complained with a roll of the eyes. "He gave me Jewels. I like I can't get those back in District 1." She made a face like say, 'what can you do with these idiots' before chuckling.

"This is why I don't take material goods," Finnick said, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. "Secrets are a better currency."

I look at them both a bit confused. "Ummm, what?" I finally ask, my own hair dripping from my extra long shower. I seem to shower all the time now. Tonight's client was shudder inducing. Not only was he over fifty, but the things he said to me while I was forced to ride him...I feel like vomiting.

"Things you get in return," Cashmere explains. "Haven't you talked to her about this?" she asks Finnick.

"Thought I'd let her get used to it before adding on more things," Finnick defended.

"I'm right here," I point out, annoyed. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you don't want to do this forever without getting anything in return, do you?" Cashmere asks, as if it is obvious. I must still look confused because Finnick continues.

"You see, they can't pay us. Not really. They pay Snow for our 'services', but clients do tend to appreciate a good performance," he smirks at that, but I can tell he's holding back disgust.

"And they give you things?" I guess, looking back at the neckless hanging from Cashmere's fingers. "Like jewels."

"Yep," she says. "Only, usually my clients are smart enough to know I could care less about Jewels. I personally prefer other luxuries." She shrugs, and I have to admit, I have no idea how she's become comfortable enough with what she does to be so nonchalant about it.

"And what do you get paid in?" I ask Finnick.

"Secrets," he says. "I have no use for monetary gain. I have everything I want in 4. But Secrets...those can be invaluable."

I feel like he's trying to say something without saying it, but I'm to tired to even both deciphering it. That's a conversation for another time. I haven't a clue how to get things from my clients, and frankly, I'm not sure I could use anything they gave without hating myself. I hate myself enough as it is.

* * *

"Bend over," he orders me in a gruff voice. I try my best not to shake in fear. I can't help it. Every one of these men I've been forced into bed with is strong enough to do whatever he wants with me. Even if I could resist, I likely wouldn't win.

I bite my lip and do as I'm told, closing my eyes and going to my 'happy place'. The meadow with Peeta. I feel 'Leporis'' fingers gripping my hips tightly as he raises my ass higher. He hasn't been particularly gentle to this point. After ramming his dick down my throat for what seemed like an eternity, he threw my on the bed and pounded into me without so much as checking to see how wet I was. The answer is, I wasn't nearly wet enough. It hurt, but not as bad as it would have if I hadn't prepped myself before the clothes were even removed.

I have no idea what he has planned now, but I just hope he comes soon so I can go back to the Guest House. Cashmere is gone, and I still have one week in the comfort of Finnick. I don't know how I'll get by when he leaves.

Leporis' hand comes down hard on my ass and I yelp in surprise. He shifts behind me and I hate not being able to see what is happening, but I don't feel confident in turning to look at him. Finnick warned me to walk a fine line. Clearly this man wants to dominate me. As humiliating as it is, the more I just let it happen, the faster it will be over.

I hear a squirt of something being dispensed from a tube and then feel wet fingers on my skin. I cry out in pain instantly as he jams two fingers directly into my ass. _Oh god, not this. Please, not this. _But it's clear my silent pleas are futile. He takes no time to prepare me, but quickly pulls his fingers out and slams his cock hard into me and I see stars.

It feels like I'm ripping in two. My fingers grip the crisp white sheets under me. I see a tear fall onto the cotton and I promise myself I won't let this man see me cry. I take a deep breath and try to do what Finnick told me. I try to relax, but it's impossible. My ass hurts and my hips ache from being gripped too hard.

He's grunting an moaning disgusting things above me, and I can feel his sweat fall onto my back. I want to throw up. I want this to be over. I want to die.

It lasts for what seems like forever, and then, with one last angry thrust, he groans loudly and comes. Thank Fuck!

He slips out of me and I hiss in pain. It burns. It hurts far more than I was expecting and I feel like I'll never be able to stand upright at this rate.

"My wife will be home soon. You can go," he says in a bored tone as he gets off the bed and goes directly to the bathroom to shower. _I will not cry. _I gather my clothes and put them on, quickly leaving the house. This fucking bastard has a wife on top of it. I wonder if she gets the same treatment.

I discovered early on that some clients arrange for my transportation home and some don't. The ones who do not have made arrangements with Snow to have me picked up. I'm relieved to see my regular driver in the driveway.

"Ready to go, Miss Everdeen?" he asks politely and I nod, unsure my voice will even work at the moment.

I hiss as I sit down, the pain in my backside flaring up again. The ride home is silent and when I get home, Finnick is already on the couch nursing a cup of hot chocolate. "Kat-" he starts but I cut him off with a shake of my head.

I limp to my own room, not able to face him. I don't want to face anyone. Not until I've showered and feel clean again. Walking even hurts. I shut the door and head to the bathroom where I shower like I do every night. Only this time, I feel like I'll never be able to get out.

Nothing is clean. Nothing is right. I'm covered in that man's disgusting germs. I'll never get him out of me. I'll never forget this memory. I worry I'll never want to be touched again. Will I ruin everything tomorrow? And what if the next guy is even worse? How can Cashmere do this and just shrug it off in the name of luxury goods? It hurts. My body and my spirit. I don't even feel human.

Finally, I get out of the shower, giving up on the idea of feeling clean. The clock shows me I've been in there for over an hour. I catch a glimpse of my naked body in the full length mirror and cringe. I've had bruises from sex. Some men grip too tight. But tonight, I look awful. I can actually see his hand prints on my hips and thighs.

Unbidden, tears come to my eyes and I sob. I can't do this. I can't. It's too much.

"Katniss," Finnick's voice on the other side of the door calls softly.

"What?" I snap, not wanting him to barge in on my moment of self pity and weakness.

"Come out of there. We can talk. It will help," he says. I doubt anything will help me now, but I sniffle and resolve to at least try. Finnick has never made things worse.

"Give me a minute," I say, tears staining my voice. I dress as quickly as I can, though my movements are slowed by the pain radiating from my ass. When I limp out of my room and into the main sitting area, Finnick is already there with a cup of hot chocolate for me.

"Come," he says patting the seat next to him. "What happened to you tonight?" he asked, and I realize I must look awful.

"It was horrible," I say. "He didn't even prepare me. He just..."

I see confusion and then realization pass before Finnick's eyes and I turn away, ashamed. "I'm so sorry, Katniss," he says, resting his hand over mine in comfort. He doesn't say anything else, but I do. I tell him how I feel, how disgusting I am. How I feel like I'll never be clean. How I've only barely been holding on until now, and I don't think I can do it anymore.

"Katniss, you have to," Finnick reminds me finally. "I'm sorry it was like that. I'm sorry any of this is happening to any of us. But you can't quit. YOu'll be dead before you get out of the house. And your family will too. There are eyes everywhere."

I know that. Even as I say I can't do it anymore, I know I will. I have to. I've never hated anyone the way I hate President Snow. Has he no compassion at all? I roll my eyes at myself. This is the guy who has children fight to the death. Of course he doesn't.

"Have you thought any more about calling Peeta?" Finnick asks.

"I want to. I just...It will be harder for him," I explain.

"I understand that, but you need to keep your sanity too. Just call him. Just to hear his voice," Finnick suggests. "It can do wonders."

"Thanks, Finnick," I say, and he kisses me on the cheek before retiring to bed. I didn't even have a chance to ask how his night went, but I know he understands.

I look at the phone on the side table and consider my options. It's very late in District 12. Nearly 3 in the morning. I shouldn't wake him. But I'm not sure if I can sleep without hearing his voice. I need him. I need him so much it hurts. I bit my lip and lift the receiver dialing the number that I have memorized.

It rings about ten times before he answers, "Hello?" his voice is husky from sleep but alert as if worried about an emergency. I feel instantly guilty.

"Peeta," I say, my voice cracking slightly.

"Katniss?" he cries. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lie. "I just...I had a hard night and I wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry to call so late."

"No!" He nearly yells into the phone. "No, please, call me any time. Are you really okay? God, I've missed you. I've been so worried. I didn't know if they were keeping you from calling or...well, I just hate not knowing what's happening. The TV has said things, and I'm just..."

"Peeta, please stop watching the TV," I say. "It's an illusion."

"I know," he says. "Gale is about to have a fit. I don't know if he knows anything, but he's got suspicions."

"Great," i mutter.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," Peeta says. "You called me because you need me. I'm here. What do you need?"

"Just..." I don't know how to ask him for what I really need. Assurance. I need to know he's still on my side. "No matter what, you are still with me, right?"

I hear his breath catch. "Of course," he says. "Always."

"Thank you. I needed to hear your voice. I need to know you are there," I explain. He's the only person i can open up to like this, and it's so cathartic.

"I'm always here. Katniss, I miss you so much."

I realize that he still has no idea when I'll be home. "I'm going to be home in two weeks, Peeta. And then I'm free until the Victory Tour. Just you and me."

"I can't wait," he says. And I smile. I have something to look forward to. I need to remember that.

"Go back to sleep," I say. "I'll see you soon."

"Good night, Katniss," he says, and I can tell he doesn't want to hang up any more than I, but we have no choice. When I hang the phone up I get up and go to my room where I get into bed. Sleep doesn't find me easily, but when it does it's nightmares of a man grunting over me as he fucks me against my will.


	10. Payment

**A/N: Thanks for your patience. Here is the latest chapter. Thanks again for all the support and reviews. Hope you enjoy. Errors are still mine. No beta as of yet. :)**

* * *

**Payment**

Cinna is from heaven, I'm certain. Finnick must have told him about what happened to me last night because the moment he gets to the house he shoos me into the bathroom and runs me a bath, dumping the contents of a package into the steaming water. I'm grateful to them both that i don't have to talk about what happened to me. I'd rather forget it, even though I know it's not really possible.

As I slink down into the water, i can't help the moan that escapes my mouth. It's heavenly. The burning in my backside eases almost instantly, and i can feel a warm tingle spreading through my body, especially my aching thighs.

"What is that?" I ask, my eyes nearly rolling back into my head.

"Medication," Cinna answers, but his voice is strained. I look up at him and furrow my brow in confusion.

"This is so wrong," he finally says, pain etched across his face.

"Aren't you used to this by now?" I ask, though, when his face reflects hurt, I immediately regret it. I didn't mean it how it sounded. I just assumed that being a Capitolite he'd be used to dealing with this kind of thing. Especially as a stylist to the Hunger Games.

"How can one every get used to this?" he finally says. "Besides, you are my first tribute, and as such my first experience with this sort of...thing. I can assure you, not all Capitol families are as excessive as the circles surrounding Snow."

I nod. "I'm sorry, Cinna. I didn't mean to imply..."

He smiles and shakes his head. "I know," he says. "Wash up and then we'll have lunch." He leaves me alone and I bask the the glorious comfort of this magical bath. I've needed this. Weeks of constant sex take a toll on anybody, I'm sure. When you are an unwilling party it only makes things worse.

When I am done, I dress quickly and join Cinna and Finnick in the kitchen. They look like they are deep in discussion, but immediately stop talking when I enter the room. "What's up?" I ask, feeling the prickly sensation associated with paranoia that people are talking about you. I hate that feeling.

"Nothing," Finnick says with a smile. "Just filling Cinna in on his babysitting duties for when I leave."

I roll my eyes at him. "I don't need a baby sitter. I'm fine."

"Oh yes," Finnick nods with mock seriousness. "Just fine. Not a care in the world. Of course."

I sigh at him but can't help but smirk. If there is one thing Finnick has done for me over the last three weeks, it's teach me to relax. I have enough stress and pressure with my new duties, I needn't apply that to every aspect of my life. Besides, if I dwelled on everything, I'd drive myself nuts. It is actually nice to have this meaningless and silly back and forth with him.

"It's not babysitting, Katniss," Cinna assures me with his constantly gentle and calming voice. "I want to be here for you."

"I know," I say. "I just...I feel weak when you both treat me like I can't do this on my own."

"Katniss, I couldn't do this on my own," Finnick says seriously. "When I came into this lifestyle, I had someone to help me. And we would go nuts if we didn't have someone. You know it. If that's weakness, I'm weak too."

"Finnick's right," Cinna assures me. "I can't imagine going through any of this. I'd be a wreck. By my estimation, you are handling everything with strength I'd never have."

I know they mean to cheer me up, but the thoughts of last night are creeping in and I don't want to succumb to them. "Let's eat," I say with a weak smile. They readily agree.

* * *

I hate being tied up. I don't feel in control. Of course, I'm not in control. I'm never in control with these men. But physical freedom at least gives me the illusion. Being tied up like this, he could do anything to me.

But he doesn't touch me. He gets close, but never does. Raff is a bit of a weirdo, if I'm honest. I mean, more of a weirdo than most who pay for a night with me. For one, he didn't take me to any parties. He didn't show me off. He picked me up and took me directly to his Mansion.

I've picked up enough signals to know he wants me to treat him like I'm his girlfriend. It's awkward for me. I don't even know how to be overly affectionate with Peeta yet. But I do my best. I talk to him as if he's my boyfriend and I even touch him lightly, though he shies away from my touches. Fine with me, but I don't understand it. He's slow to talk and very nervous. He seems incredibly awkward. Even more so than I am.

After a few glasses of wine and an offered snort of some sort of drug I've never heard of but decline, he leads me upstairs where he asks me politely to undress and lie on the bed. The only time I feel his hands on me are when he ties me to the posts, both hands over my head, both legs spread wide. I blush in embarrassment, but comply. I just hope he doesn't rape and murder me.

He steps back from the bed, and just leers at me. I go to my happy place, trying to ignore the labored breathing of the man in front of me as he takes off his clothes climbs onto the bed and in between my legs. Here it comes. My heart is pounding but I'm still trying to cling to me delusion of happiness with Peeta in my head.

Still, he doesn't touch me. "Beautiful..." he mutters as he takes his cock in hand and beings to pump. I keep eye contact. I've been told this is very important. Finnick says they can become enraged if they think you are not engaged. Instead of looking at his eyes, I look at a spot on his forehead as he grunts and jerks himself off in front of me.

This is so strange, but I guess I should be grateful that he's not fucking me. Not touching me. Not making me want to scratch my skin off until I'm clean. Not that I'm happy with _this_ either. It's bizarre and I don't like it. Perhaps if Peeta did it... Then it might be hot. Then it might get me wet. Then I might touch myself too while he watches. But this is not Peeta. It's a very strange, very socially awkward stranger. And he's leering at me like I'm a porn magazine.

"Katniss..." he hisses as his cock twitches and his come lands all over my hips and stomach. I control the urge to turn up my nose in disgust and wait for him to move from the bed. It takes him a long moment to catch his breath. He unties me almost immediately and I can see shamed etched on his face. I'm floored.

"Thank you," he says, and he's the first one to say anything but "Get out" afterward. "I have this for you," he says, pulling a robe around him and going to the bedside table. Opening the door he pulls out a box.

"I know these are very hard to come by in the Districts," he says as he hands it to me. "Please find use for it." He smiles warmly at me, and I'm overwhelmed. I have no idea how to deal with a situation like this. When they are rude and dismissive, I can simply continue to hate them. It's actually easier. But this man...something about him tells me he paid for me because he has deluded himself into believing that I'm something special...not just a Capitol toy. I don't think he could bring himself to fuck me for pay. As I look at the box, I see it has the symbol for medical supplies used here at the Capitol and I'm shocked. Of all 'payments' this is the best one I could get.

"Thank you," I choke out, sliding from the bed to dress. "This will help so many people." i don't know what's inside it, but I do know my mother and Prim will find use for it. A month ago, the thought of taking anything from a man who'd paid for my services would have abhorred me. Now...it will help people, and that's all that matters to me.

He smiles warmly at me, and I finish getting dressed, picking up the box. He opens his mouth to say something else but he doesn't. I smile awkwardly and take my leave. My mind is a jumble of confusion. I feel dirty and wrong still. This man was not Peeta and he still bought me, like an object. But I have empathy for him. There is something about him that tells me he has no idea how to be around women in any normal way, and I find myself wondering what happened to him to make him that way.

That, of course, leads to confusion about why I care? Have I become so used to this in just four weeks that I can easily get past the fact that he just jerked off by using my body as a masturbatory aid simply because he's an awkward person?

But he wants to help me and the people of my district? Why? My impression of Capitol people has both gotten worse and better as I realize not everyone in the Capitol is how I envisioned. Some are much worse and some are totally different. Almost like me, though they've never had to worry about starving.

In the car, I open the box and gasp when I see what's inside. At least one-hundred tiny doses of the medication Peeta received in the arena. That is a hundred people in District 12 saved from preventable death. I feel tears sting my eyes and I decide, tonight, just tonight, what I was forced to do will bring some good to people.

* * *

It's lonely. I knew it would be. But thankfully I'm done. For this trip at least. I'm on the train home. Finnick's absence has been overwhelming. Cinna did what he could, and was always there when I got home. I have a feeling Finnick told him I'd need him. As much as I hate pity, I've needed Cinna. Not all clients are as innocuous as Raff.

My body aches, and all I want to do is sleep for a week. When I get home, I'm showering, getting in bed and shutting out the world for 24 straight hours. I make this vow to myself knowing it probably will not go that way. But I can dream.

My stomach fills with butterflies as the train approaches District 12. It's the middle of the night again. My trains will probably always be late at night. Perfect for the kind of person I am now. A woman of the night. A whore. I shake the thought from my head. Not not. Now I just want to go home. I want to see Peeta. I want to see my family. And I want to burrow in my place of denial just for a little longer. The world can attack tomorrow.

I get off the train with only the clothes on my back, and my precious box of medical supplies. I take several deep breaths before entering my house in the Victor's Village, and I'm surprised to see Mother has allowed Prim to stay up and wait for me. I smile brightly at them both. I've honestly missed them. I just hadn't let myself succumb to the emotions of it while I was away.

"Oh we've missed you!" Prim cries, wrapping both arms around me. I chuckle and hug her back, pulling her hard to me and breathing in the smell of her.

"I've missed you too, little Duck," I say. And I really have. I've missed my sister so much. This is the longest time we've spend away from each other since she was born.

"How are you?" My mother asks, her tone betraying her worry. I wonder if she knows or suspects anything? Did she stay away from the media? Did Gale talk to her? I really can't tell. She's always had a good poker face.

"I'm fine," I say, trying my best to smile genuinely.

She eyes me skeptically, and I can tell she's got a million questions, most of which I'll probably never be able to answer. I just hope she knows tonight is not the time for any of them.

"You look older," she observes.

"It's only been a bit over a month," I say with an awkward laugh. God, I feel older. I feel ancient. In the last month I feel like I've aged 50 years.

She smiles then and wraps and arm around me. "Let's get off to bed," she finally says. "We can catch up in the morning."

"Okay," I say biting my lip. She'd not going to like this, but at the moment, I don't care. "I'm going to stay the night with Peeta," i inform her, hoping she doesn't dare stop me. He promised to wait up for me, and I need him. For now, it's a battle worth fighting with her.

She looks like she wants to protest, but thinks better of it and nods. "Okay. Come home for breakfast, though. Both of you," she says with a strained smile. I agree and kiss her on the cheek before bending down to kiss Prim on the lips. Prim hugs me tight again and I start to feel like the Capitol is far away again.

"I'll see you in the morning," I promise.

When they head off to bed I lay the medical box on the kitchen counter and nearly sprint from the house and down the steps to Peeta's place. I bang on the door, and hope he's not fallen asleep. It takes only seconds for the door to swing open and I can't help it, when I see him standing before me, I burst into tears. The man who's memory got me through the worst weeks of my life is there, in the flesh and I'm so overwhelmed I don't even know what to say.

"Katniss, are you okay?" he asks pulling me into him.

I nod, but I can't get words to come out of my mouth. "I am now," I finally say through my sobs of relief. He pulls me into the house and holds me tight all the way up to his room where he sits on the bed with me in his arms until I'm able to control my emotions. Seeing him is overwhelming. Smelling him is too much. Touching him makes me feel safe. Safe. A feeling I thought I'd lost along with my innocence.

"I missed you," he finally says, and I chuckle and sniffle at the same time. Leave it to him to say something so simple as I have a nervous breakdown in his arms.

"I missed you so much," I say. He cups my face and looks me in the eyes.

"I'm glad you are home." I can't help it, I smile genuinely for the first time in a long time. Home. I am home. And I realize that I only feel home when I'm with him. How did this happen so fast? How did he burrow his way in? I don't know, and frankly, I don't care at the moment.

"Can I use your shower? I want to wash the Capitol off me," I ask.

"Of course," he says loosening his grip on me and moving to the dresser. He pulls out clothes for me and I smile before pecking him on the cheek and making use of his spacious master bathroom.

I take the shortest shower in over a month, wanting to be back in his presence as soon as possible. I let the water calm me and settle into myself. Drying off, my heart starts to race as I consider this he first time in over a month I've prepared to join a man in bed and haven't felt dirty about it. I pull on one of his old teeshirts and a pair of his boxer shorts and join him in his lush bed.

He hits the light and wraps both arms around me. I sigh in contentment. I've got so much to work through mentally, but at least I'm home. "Goodnight, Peeta," i say softly, breathing him in.

"Goodnight, Katniss," he replies. I fall asleep almost instantly.


	11. Home

**Home**

* * *

Sunlight seeps through the sheer drapes of Peeta's bedroom window and I groan as I'm thrust into wakefulness. No nightmares. That's a blessing, but that's always been a byproduct of sleeping with Peeta.

Peeta. I smile slightly as I look him over. He's here. I'm home. I know we have a lot to talk about, to work through, but still, he's here and I feel immensely better than I have in weeks.

I lean back to take him all in, noting that my body is still stiff and aching from my activities in the Capitol. I wonder when that will stop?

"Katniss?" Peeta's deep voice rumbles somewhere between awake and asleep. I can't help it, I grin at him. He's adorable.

"Morning," I say, my own voice still a little husky with sleep. I allow myself this time to feel free and happy because I know, sooner or later, the real world will close in and I'll have to deal with it. Things did not just stop because I've been in the Capitol for over a month.

He opens his eyes and smiles up at me, his one dimple proudly present on his face. "I'm so glad you are home," he says, sitting up and shifting positions to prop himself up on one arm. IN the process, though, he bumps his good leg against my thigh and I wince. I'm still very tender. Without Cinna's magical herbs, there is little relief but time.

"What's wrong?" he asks, pulling at the covers though I try to stop him. He's faster than I, though, and soon my legs are bare before him. There are more bruises under my shirt and boxers, but he can see enough from where he lies next to me.

"Katniss..." he hisses, pulling up the hem of his boxers that I wear. I push them down and roll off the bed.

I feel irrationally angry all of a sudden. He's ruined my morning. I was happy, content, ready to face the day. But he pulled me out of my make believe world and thrust me back into reality without so much as a grace period. "You knew I wasn't having tea all day in the Capitol," I snap, picking up my earlier discarded clothes and going into the bathroom.

I know I have no reason to be angry with Peeta. He's done nothing wrong, and more than that, he's been there for me exactly like I needed him, but seeing the look in his eyes when he saw the physical presence of my shame...I couldn't take it. He looked so disgusted.

I feel tears in my eyes but I push them back. I am not going to cry. I suck it up and dress, using the extra toothbrush to brush my teeth. I take a few deep breaths before holding my head high and exiting the bathroom. Peeta is sitting in his underwear on the edge of the bed, fisting his hair in his hands.

My anger dissipates. "Peeta..." I begin and he looks up at me.

"I don't know how to do this," he says, his voice broken. I sigh and sit next to him on the bed.

"I don't either," I say. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was...I am..." I sigh wishing I knew how to explain.

He sits patiently, watching me as I try to figure out how to tell him what I feel. "I'm embarrassed," i finally say. "I know it disgusts you. I understand that it's impossible to see me like I was before. I've changed. I get it..."

"No," Peeta says firmly. He takes my hand in his and looks at me directly in the eye. "I'm not disgusted by you. I'm disgusted by _them_." His jaw clenches and I can see a rage building inside him that I've never seen from Peeta Mellark. Never. Not even in the arena.

"But I have changed, Peeta, and there is no use pretending otherwise," I say softly. This is my fear laid bare before him. Have I changed so much in the last 5 weeks that we can never go back?

"I don't doubt that you have," he says, his voice softer now. "And I promise to be here for you if or when you want to talk about it. But you are still...my Katniss. I know this. I feel it. And nothing that happened to you there will change what I feel for you."

I look at him shocked for a moment, and I can't believe he's stunned me again with his ability to say the perfect thing at the perfect time. I feel the tears gathering again, and I wonder if I'll ever be that girl who could force herself not to cry. I seem to be a blubbering mess of late. "You don't know what they did to me," i say weakly. "You might change your mind."

"No," he says firmly, squeezing my hand in his. "This..." he points to my leg where he saw the bruises, "this is not your fault and you will not blame yourself for it, if I have anything to say about it. Those vile, repulsive men did this to you. They don't know you. They can never touch what I've know about you. They can never understand the depth of loving someone, and they are worthless. They have violated you as viciously as a rapist, no matter if you were compliant or not."

"How can you always see the good?" I ask him. "I'm barely holding myself together."

"I'll hold you together," he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me in until my head is resting on his shoulder. "I have no idea what I'm doing, but I know that I'm in love with you. You are all that matters to me, and I'll get you through this. And he will pay for this."

I don't need to ask who 'he' is. Peeta's rage against President Snow as been palpable since the moment I told him of my new duties, and it's only grown since.

"Okay," i say. "I can't promise you this will be easy, but I'm trying." He smiles and squeezes me tighter. "But mother wants us over for breakfast, so you'd better get dressed."

* * *

Breakfast is, surprisingly pleasant. I can tell my mother has an endless list of things to ask me or say to me, but she refrains, focusing her attention on Peeta instead. She doesn't embarrass me. She doesn't say anything about our sleeping arrangements or give the trite, "hurt my daughter and I'll kill you" speech. I'm incredibly grateful. I'm not a child and neither is Peeta. And the last person anyone needs to worry about hurting me is him.

The only time breakfast takes an awkward turn is when she asks me about the medicine I've brought home. I tell her that I bought them, thinking she might have use for them, but I know Peeta has suspicions about where they came from, if only from my stilted reaction. He doesn't say anything, though.

When my mother suggests I go see Gale, I realize that she's right. It's better earlier than later. Besides, I do miss him. The chasm between us is unbearable.

"Do you want me to come?" Peeta asks uncomfortably, and I know he's stuck between wanting to be there for me, and wanting to avoid whatever drama may unfold when I go to see my oldest friend.

"No," I say. "I'm fine. I'll come by the bakery when I'm done," I suggest. "I mean, if that's okay..." I add tentatively. I still don't know where I stand with his family because i don't know where _he_ stands with them.

"No, come," he says with a smile. "I'll make us lunch." I nod and smile, kissing him on the cheek before parting ways with him in my porch and wrapping my jacket tighter around me as I make the trek to the Seam. It's already the beginning of November and the chill is settling in. I decide it might be time to break out the winter coat, but push through the cold and hurry my way to the Hawthorne's.

I knock rapidly on the door and am greeted by Rory who eyes me suspiciously. _Perfect. _"Gale here?" I ask. He pauses for a moment before opening the door wider and inviting me in. I really wish that the family would take me up on my offer to stay with us. It's too cold and cramped in this house, but Hawthorne pride runs deep. I know because I wouldn't have taken Gale up on the offer either if our positions were switched.

Gale comes into view quickly and I see several emotions cross his face before he shuts down and simply stares at me. "Can we talk?" I ask. After an unbelievably long silence he finally nods and grabs his coat along with Rory's. Handing the smaller coat to me, he guides me out the door.

We walk in awkward silence toward my old house, where I know we will be alone and we settle at the old, dusty kitchen table that looks just as we left it months ago. "What do you want to talk about?" he asks, his voice cold. I know he's angry. I wonder how much he knows, or has guessed.

"You know what I want to talk about," I say. We can read each other, even now. We know. I know he knows something isn't right, and he knows I'm hiding something.

"About your_ affairs_ in the Capitol?" he sneers. My breath catches and I can't believe he's said it. Yes, I suspected he might have suspicions, but...

"Gale, you don't know anything about it," I say softly. "Tell me what you think you know. I promise I won't lie to you."

"Oh, really?" Gale sneers again. "That will be a nice change of pace."

"Gale, I've never lied to you about anything before now. I will tell you what you need to know," I promise him. And as hard as it is, I will. It does no good lying when he knows me well enough to see the truth.

There is a long silence as I watch him control his rage. "You said you were shoring up sponsors for the next Hunger Games," he says. "That's a lie."

"Yes," I admit.

"They've had you on the television every night, you know," he spits out.

"I thought you didn't watch that rot," I counter.

"Call me curious," he replies. "And all I see is you parading around the Capitol is slutty little dresses, hanging all over different men. I know it's got nothing to do with a new found sexuality. I thought you hated the Capitol as much as I do. Yet, there you are, whoreing yourself out to them nightly for the whole fucking world to see! What the hell, Katniss?" The use of my real name is proof enough that he's nowhere near ready to listen to reason.

He's on a roll, so I let him finish, though his words cut me deeper than I'd care to admit. "You knew how I felt. Hell, you know that Mellark is head over heels for you too, and you ride off to the Capitol and fuck every man in sight. I'm not an idiot, Katniss. The rest of the town might think it's just entertainment, but I know better. This is why you wouldn't tell me any details about these trips! Because you know what you're doing is disgusting!"

"Snow threatened my family. He threatened your family, and Peeta. He was going to kill all of you if I didn't do this. Gale, look at me." I force him to lift his gaze to mine though he's been staring at the table top as if he'd like to set it on fire with his eyes. My heart is pumping in my chest equal parts rage at his words and disgust at myself because I still feel the dirt of the Capitol upon me, even now. "You know me. I know what you are thinking. I know you think I had a choice. How could you ever think that of me?"

I feel a lump in my throat, but I ignore it, swallowing it down. He says nothing. His gaze still heated with rage. "Fine, you want the truth?" i spit out. "I've spent the last five weeks in bed with disgusting men who've paid to fuck me, Gale. I was forced to make choices that no one should ever have to make. I'm a whore. I've sold myself to keep the people I love safe, and I'm okay with that. But you don't get to judge me, you asshole."

I whip Rory's coat off my back and throw it at him, storming out of the house. he doesn't follow me, and I'm relieved. I can't stand that look of disgust in his eyes. I wonder how many other people in District 12 have figured it out. I'm certain I'll be a social pariah in no time. We might not be a rebellious district, but we are not keen on people like Finnick Odair. Especially since the majority of the district thinks he sleeps with Capitol women for fun.

I can't even feel the cold as I run toward town and to the bakery. I'd have skipped my meeting with Peeta all together, but he would only worry. I use the jog to try to reign in my emotions. The look on Gale's face...I choke back a sob. I never want to see that look again. I think Gale and I are done for good, and the thought kills me.

I reach the bakery and stop to catch my breath, bending forward and taking in huge gulps of air. Blowing one last breath out of my mouth, i steady myself and walk through the door, a little bell alerting the whole place of my entrance.

Behind the counter is of of Peeta's brothers. I'm ashamed to say, I have no clue what his name is. Peeta doesn't talk about his family much at all. "Peeta!" the man calls without sparing me more than a critical glance, certainly it is less friendly than the welcome I received when we came home. I don't have time to worry about this now.

Peeta appears from the back with a smile that falters when he sees me. I must look a bit of a mess. I bit my lip, thinking of just bolting now, but he stops me by coming around the counter and taking my arms in hand. "What happened?" he asks softly.

"This is a place of business, Peeta. Take it somewhere else," his brother says.

"Fuck off, Rye," Peeta says absently, ignoring him. "What happened?" he asks me again.

"He knows," I whisper. "I don't know who else knows." I state my real fear. Everyone knows my shame. Everyone thinks I'm whoring around the Capitol for fun. No one knows me at all.

Peeta purses his lips and leads me behind the counter, earning a protest from Rye. "Rye, not now," Peeta warns seriously and his brother just sighs in response. Peeta leads me to the back kitchen where there are sandwiches already set out for us. It's sweet, the effort he's put into lunch, but I'm not sure if I can eat anything.

Peeta sits and I sit next to him as he maintains contact with me, rubbing circles on my lower back. "Tell me what happened?"

"It's not that anything happened," I sigh. "He knows, and I can't really explain it." I wait a moment to try to explain to Peeta why this is such a big deal. I turn to look at him and I can see in his eyes he worried about me. I'll never deserve this man, I'm certain of it.

"Gale and I have been best friends for so long. We've spent so much time together, we can read each other. We know each other so well, it's hard to lie to him. I was only successful before I left because he was distracted. After everything he saw on the television..." I let him draw his own conclusions there. "He had his suspicions, but my reaction gave me away. I told him I wouldn't lie to him if he asked me, and he accused. I admitted."

"Well, if you are that close, it was inevitable, I guess," Peeta says sadly.

"It's not that. It's the shame. It's knowing he'll never see me the same again. Neither will you. Neither will anyone who knows. It's bad enough having to do this. It's worse knowing that I can't even have my life back when I come home," I say with a sniffle.

He frowns but says nothing. "Even people who don't know..." I continue. "I've seen the looks. I know your brother thinks the worst of me. Even if they don't know, they know iIve been partying in the Capitol while people starve," I bite out, disgusted with myself.

"Hey," Peeta says, brushing my hair from my face. "My brother is an idiot. He doesn't know anything. And neither does anyone else. They are shocked. When you were gone...there was talk. It's hard for them to understand." I nod, fearing this was the case. I need to accept it. I need to move on.

"But they don't know you, Katniss. And you can't let it get to you." I scoff at that. Easy for him to say.

"I know, I'm unreasonably optimistic," he says with a slight smirk. "But I also know that many people love you in this district. They don't want to believe ill of you. After the shock wears off, I think things will settle."

"No they won't," I say. "But thank you so much for believing that." I know this won't end. Every time I go to the Capitol old wounds will reopen and it will never end. Not until Snow has no use for me or there is no more Snow.

"And forget about Rye...and my mother for that matter. Rye's protective of me, and my mother is a bitch." I burst into laughter and I'm amazed he's taken me from distraught to laughing within fifteen minutes. "As for Gale, if he's really your friend, and he knows you at all, he knows that you'd do anything for your family. Including this. He'll come around."

"Eat," he says. I decide to humor him. It's the least I can do after he cheered me up a bit.

* * *

I spend time with Prim when I get home, holding her close and basking in her innocence. Things are different though. I can't immerse myself into things as easily. I have disturbing thoughts in the back of my brain that I wish would just go away. Still, my baby sister's presence calms me.

She tells me Rory kissed her while I was away. I want to protest that she's too young, but stop myself. She's thirteen now. And she's so much different than I. Plus, Rory's been in love with her forever.

"Katniss," Prim says, and I can here trepidation in her voice. "Rory thinks...I mean, well, he said..." My heart freezes in my chest, and I worry that Rory Hawthorne has burdened my sister with his brother's suspicions.

"What did he say, little duck?" I ask, trying to keep my voice light.

"Mother and I watched some of the TV coverage," she finally said, looking up at me. "I just want you to know, I trust you. I know there is a reason why you had to go. I don't know what you are doing there, but I know you are only there because you have to be." I feel tears sting my eyes.

"Thank you, Prim," I say, pulling her to me and hugging her tight. "Don't watch that rubbish anymore," I implore her. "It will rot your brains."

She giggles at me, but I sigh a breath of relief. So she knows something isn't right, but she trusts me. That's the greatest gift Prim can give me at the moment.

There is a knock on Prim's door and my mother peeks her head in. "Katniss, Gale is here. With Peeta." She looks a little concerned, and I can't blame her. Those two being together does not sound good. What the hell did Peeta do now?

"Okay," I say, as nonchalantly as I can manage and I kiss Prim on the forehead before hopping off her bed and skipping out the door. I take a few deep breaths to collect myself before meeting the two most important men in my life who are standing awkwardly in my kitchen. Neither look keen to talk to each other, tension is thick in the air.

"Ummm, hello?" I say lamely and they both look up at me at the same time.

"Katniss, we should talk," Gale says, his eyes intense.

"Not here," I say. I don't want anything said here to be over heard by my mother or Prim.

"I'm going to Peeta's for the night," I call to my mother and I don't wait for a response before I lead both men out of my house. Then I realize I haven't technically been invited over. "That's okay right?" I ask Peeta. He smiles awkwardly and nods.

"Of course," he says. I think I hear Gale huff behind me but I ignore it. Instead I make my way with them over to Peeta's house, cursing myself for having forgotten a coat.

Once inside, we make our way to the parlor where I turn to Gale. "What do you want to talk about? As I recall you weren't much for talking earlier today." I know I'm being petty, but I'm hurt. He's my best friend and he should at least trust me if nothing else.

He eyes Peeta warily and Peeta looks at me for a long moment before nodding to Gale and leaving the room. I have no idea what's going on between them, but it's creepy. "He really cares about you, you know?"

"I believe I've been trying to tell you that for months," I snip.

"Katniss, are you going to bust my balls, or are you going to listen?" Gale finally asks. I concede this conversation will go nowhere if I don't divest myself of the giant chip on my shoulder.

"Yes, he cares about me. And I know it," I say finally. "I care about him too," I add, not to be unkind. I need him to know things between Peeta and I have changed. He's not just a friend. And I won't intentionally hurt him, no matter what Gale thinks he feels.

"I realize that. You know, he came to my house," Gale says. "Katniss' savior at my doorstep to ream me for not doing cartwheels over your new _job_," he scoffs.

"Gale, if you are here to insult me some more, you can go. If you think you can make me feel worse than I already feel, you are mistaken," I say tiredly. I don't have the patience for this again today.

"No," he says softly. "I'm sorry. That's not what I wanted to say. I don't know how to say what I want to say..."

"You don't have to say anything," i explain. "Just be my friend."

"I haven't been a good one lately. I know that. When Peeta came...when he told me everything about what you've been through, about how it all happened..." He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "He says you are too proud to let people pity you. I know this already. We are not people for pity. But damn, Katniss...how can you do it and not fall apart?"

"I have fallen apart. More times than I can count. Every night in the Capitol I fell apart. The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home. But it's not even safe here. I see how they look at me. My own mother...I don't know what she knows but she knows something isn't right. And you..." I choke on my words before I can stop myself.

"No matter what, you've always been a constant in my life, and I know things have changed. Ever since i came back from the Games, things have been different. But today, the way you looked at me. I knew. There was no going back. I hate it. It kills me, Gale," this is as honest as either of us have ever been about our feelings before. Usually we rely on our ability to read each other, but I think these things need to be said.

"I'm still your constant, Katniss," Gale promises me. I look up at him and see such turmoil in his eyes. "You know, the thought of you with _him_ used to kill me. Watching you during the Games, knowing about your sleepovers, suspecting the things you'd let him do to you that I never could...they ripped me apart."

"Gale, please don't do this..." I start, not wanting to go down this road again. It's not fair to Peeta. What I feel for Gale can never be what I feel for Peeta. They are different things.

"I know," he says. "I'm not...What I'm trying to say is, after talking to him and hearing things from his side, I can't even be upset about the two of you. He helps you. He's holding you together, whether you want to admit it or not, and that's enough for me. After what those...animals have done to you in the Capitol, how can I hate him for loving you here?"

My breath catches in my throat. It's just about the most poetic thing I've ever heard out of Gale's mouth and it makes the tension I've been holding in my shoulders all day, release. "Gale," I say, on the verge of tears again. I can't believe how weepy i've grown since the Hunger Games.

"I just needed to tell you that. I'm directing my anger at the wrong people. Who I'm really angry with is _them_," He doesn't need to tell me who 'them' refers to. I already know. The Capitol. The men who pay to fuck me. The government that controls us. But Gale knows as well as I that only so much anti-Capitol talk can happen here, in these houses that are definitely bugged.

"Thank you," I say, extending my hand to take his in it. "I need you too, you know."

He smiles at that. "Of course you do," he says lightening the mood.

"Think we can invite Peeta back in? It is his house after all," I say.

"One step at a time, Catnip," he says standing. "I've spent enough time with Peeta Mellark for the day." I roll my eyes at him but nod and show him to the door.

"Want to hunt next Sunday?" He asks. I smile and nod.

"I'd like that," I say.

"See you around, Catnip," he says before leaving and I feel so much lighter.

"Okay?" Peeta's voice asks behind me and I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Give me a heart attack!" I cry, but I'm smiling anyway. "Yes, I think it's okay. He's not just going to 'get over this', but he understands and that's all I need."

"I'm glad," he smiles, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You didn't have to go over there and talk to him," I point out as Peeta takes me by the hand and leads me up the stairs.

"Yes I did," he says. "The way you looked when you came to the bakery...He's lucky I didn't kick his ass."

"I can take care of myself, Peeta," I point out.

"Trust me, I know that," he says with a chuckle. "But you don't always have to. Besides, he needed to hear from me. He and I were long overdue for a conversation anyway."

"Well, thank you," I say, kissing him lightly on the mouth. His arms wrap tightly around me and he pulls our lips back together, devouring his mouth in mine.

I moan against him and let his strong arms hold me closer until I feel his hands wandering under the soft cotton of my shirt. The feel of his warm calloused hands on my skin forces me to jump back and push him away instinctually. The panic that rises up in my chest is familiar, but I never wanted to feel it with him. Not in my safe place.

"Katniss, I'm sorry," Peeta cries his eyes blazing with shame, and I want to scream in frustration. Snow cannot take this from me too!

"No," I say shaking my head. "Please, don't be sorry." I say. "It's me. I'm...I just...I..." I can't explain to him that his hands on my skin brought me back to those nights with those nameless men. And I hate myself for the reaction. I want him. I want him to take away the feeling of those men, but I realize too late that I might need a little time before I can get there.

"I should never have touched you," he says, still beating himself up. "I should have known. Katniss, I won't hurt you, I swear."

"I know, Peeta," I say, moving forward to cup his cheek. "I trust you. Please don't think I don't." I sigh as I try to explain myself. "It brought back a memory. It won't always be like this. I will be ready. I just need some time."

"I understand," Peeta says, his eyes bottomless with sadness, not for the fact that he won't be having sex with me tonight, but because I'm damaged. "You are in control. Whatever you want...whenever you're ready, I'm here."

"Thank you," I say, breathing a sigh of relief. "Let's just go to bed," I suggest. He nods and we go about our nightly routine.

When we slip into bed, I turn to face Peeta who seems to be scared of touching me at all. "Here," i say, placing his arms around me. "I'm okay. Please don't be afraid of me."

"When the time comes," he breathes against my ear as he pulls me close, "I will kill every last bastard who touched you." His voice is soft enough that I know we aren't overheard by Capitol spying mechanisms, and his promise sends shivers down my spine because I have no doubt that he means it. Peeta and Gale have found one more thing in common. Taking down the Capitol.


	12. Reacquainted

**A/N: Kind of a short chapter and really earns the 'M' rating. In fact, it's just about all 'M' in this one. :) Enjoy. **

* * *

**Reacquainted**

It's annoying. My mind is divided, as well as my body. As Peeta bushes against me in bed, I remember how it felt. I remember him touching me, kissing me, making me come. I remember how good that felt, and I want it. But the other thoughts creep in. Nagging at my brain until I want to scream in frustration.

Touch has changed. Touch is bad. Intimate touch, at least. It makes me think of stale alcohol, sweating men, and roughness that I never want to associate with Peeta. My fingers itch to touch every inch of him, familiarizing myself with the pleasure he only introduced me to recently. But I'm scared. My body lies motionless as I contemplate the things I want him to do with me.

I know more now. I know positions that could rock his world. I know how to blow him like a pro. I know what hurts and what feels good. I know my body and I know the male anatomy in a way I didn't when we had sex. Exploring these things is tempting and terrifying all at once.

"Katniss?" he asks, his voice husky from sleep as he cracks an eye open to look at me.

I smile at him but it doesn't reach my eyes. He knows it's fake. He always knows. From the moment I told him I kissed him only for the cameras on the train coming home from the Capitol, he's known how to read me. A defense mechanism he's, sadly, had to cultivate.

He's awake now, rolling over to face me. "What's wrong?" he asks, and I sigh. I told him of my fate for just this reason - to have someone to be honest with.

"I want you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm so afraid to go there."

His face registers several emotions at once. Lust, sadness, and anger being three of the most prominent. "We don't have to do anything," he assures me, and I can see he doesn't get it. It's not about me feeling pressured. I know Peeta would never pressure me into anything. This is about me.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I know we don't _have_ to do anything. I _want_ to." His eyes widen slightly and I can tell he never expected this. He's been sitting in District 12 resigned to the idea that we fucked for practical purposes and it might never happen again.

"I can never get this right," I sigh, sitting up and hanging my head in my hands. "I don't know how to tell you what I feel. I...it was more than just sex for practical purposes. You made me feel..." I am at a loss for words again. "I can't explain what I felt when we were together. But it was amazing. You are amazing. When I was there, in the Capitol, sex was disgusting. It was humiliating and wrong. I never felt clean. I hated myself. Part of me wants you to wash all those memories away with your body. Part of me worries I'll never be able to enjoy it again."

That's the best I can explain it, and I see understanding in his eyes. He knows what I mean, finally, though not eloquently, I've explained my hesitation and my feelings. I hope he knows that he's more than my crutch. Peeta is a man whom I will never deserve, but if he's willing I'm going to try and hold onto him anyway.

He's warring with himself about something and I'm about to ask what it is when he leans forward and kisses me. "Come here," he says, gently pushing me onto my back as he props himself up on his side next to me.

"Let me try something. If you want me to stop, I swear I will. But I want you to try to relax and just look at me. _Feel _only me," he requests. My heart races and I nod at him. If I can trust anyone, it's Peeta Mellark.

I keep my eyes on him as he shifts slightly and lifts the tee-shirt I've worn to bed up and over my stomach. He bends down and his lips graze the skin of my stomach so lightly I almost wonder if he's made contact. My core notices though, and clinches with arousal. I let out a sigh of relief.

He looks up at me to check that I'm okay before pulling the shirt higher. I lift my arms over my head and let him pull the item off completely, my bare breasts exposed to him in the morning light. There is no hiding here, and my experience with nakedness has helped me. Two months ago, I'd have shied away from his intense scrutiny in such harsh light. Now, I revel in the look of wonder in his eyes. He doesn't look at me like I'm a possession to fuck and chuck. He looks at me like he never wants to stop looking at me. I blush.

The bruises along my ribs make him frown, though and I feel a shift in his emotions. "Katniss..." he breathes against the skin of my chest as he places an open mouth kiss against my heating skin.

"Please don't judge..." I whisper.

"Never," he says looking at me seriously. "You are beautiful, regardless." I can see a resolve behind the lust in his eyes and I know that he will never stop hating the Capitol. Neither will I.

I'm not given very long to contemplate it, though because I'm almost immediately shocked into pleasure when his mouth closes around my left nipple. "Peeta..." I cry out, my reservations forgotten at the moment. None of those men ever touched me like this. None of them ever cared about my pleasure. I can't confuse this situation. This is all Peeta, and I want it. I want it all.

I become part of the action, moving my hands up to feel the cotton of his shirt, gripping it in my hands and tugging it up. He quickly moves back and pulled the shirt over his head with one hand before descending on my right breast, letting his perfect white teeth bite down gently on the sensitive skin. I pant hard as my body tingles. Holy Fuck, where did he learn this?

My hands move across the soft skin of his broad shoulders as he moves down my body licking and kissing my stomach. I giggle slightly as his lips tickle my ribs and he grins brightly up at me, maintaining eye contact as his lips open up for a kiss just at the edge of my ribcage.

My eyes roll back into my head. This is hot. He is hot. His touch is amazing. Nothing like the first, slightly awkward coupling. Nor like the frenzied couch sex before I left for the Capitol. He was taking his time, utilizing his skills, where ever he got them, and making me putty in his hands. He's tender but confident. He's gentle but firm. He owns me. And I don't even care.

Moving further down, his fingers hook into the side of the boxer shorts I wear and he pulls them, along with my underwear down my legs at once. I hear his breath catch as he takes in my shaved pussy and I bite my lip, wondering if he's pleased or not.

"They did it, when I got there," I say lamely, though I wish I hadn't said anything at all.

"I like it. But I liked it before too. I honestly don't care," he says seriously, leaning down to kiss the smooth skin just above my sex. This surprises me.

"What are you..." I start, but he shakes his head.

"Trust me," he says. "If you want me to stop, remember, I will." I nod hesitantly and let him peel my legs apart and settle between them. I want to clamp them shut, but I take two deep breaths and pull my head back onto my pillow, closing my eyes and just letting myself feel.

His breath is hot against my dripping wet center and I moan before his lips even touch me. When they do, I think I've flow into a new dimension of sensation. One long lick along my slit and I'd let Peeta Mellark do anything to me right now without complaint.

His tongue tastes me completely before finding my clit and making tight circles against it. "Fuck..." I mutter, my hands instinctively going to his head where I wrap all ten fingers into his shaggy blonde locks.

My thighs quiver as he tongues my clit aggressively, moaning against me in his own pleasure. I have no idea why he enjoys this, but if he does...I'm a lucky woman. In this moment, there is nothing but me, him, and this. I don't think about anything else - anyone else.

I sigh in relief as his hand moves up my thigh and he presses two fingers into me. It's not enough, but it's a start. When he quirks his fingers up and hits a spot within me that makes my body jerk off the bed, I know he must have had instruction since last we were together. At this point, I don't care who taught him this, I want to kiss that person.

"Feels good..." I stutter out, as his tongue assaults my clit and his fingers wiggle back and forth on that one spot.

My fingers tighten in his hair as I nearly rip it out of his skull. My winding tighter and tighter, and my legs shake as the power of my orgasm builds. "Close..." I warn, not sure what I expect him to do, but needing him to know I'm about to explode.

He redoubles his efforts and I hear a high pitched squeal escape my mouth. As I arch my back and feel my entire body come undone, more intense than anything I've ever felt before.

I'm barely coherent as he licks me long and slow a few more times before moving away from my sopping core and sliding back up my body. I don't care about the wetness coating his mouth and chin, or the fact that I should probably be disgusted by it, I pull him by the neck to me and kiss him hard. I moan as I taste myself on him, and lick my come from his lips.

He moans again, his cock hard and ready against my thigh. "Fuck me," I tell him desperately. I'm not scared any more. I'm needy. I'm wanton.

He shakes his head. "I won't fuck you. But I'll make love to you." The phrase makes my stomach twist in discomfort, but I don't much care what he calls it at the moment. I want him. He must know what I have with him is nothing like the men of the Capitol. If he wants to call it making love, I don't care. I just need it.

Still, I don't want slow and gentle. A beast has awoken within me and I want him to sate it. I kiss him once more before flipping us over until I'm straddling him. I make quick work of his boxers, shedding them and throwing them across the room before settling over his cock, standing proud and ready for me.

He looks up with me with such adoration I tremble under his gaze. His hands are on my hips, gripping but not directing. I have the control. He wants me to know. I'm more than happy to take it. I reach between us and grab his erection, guiding it to my opening. Sinking down, I let him fill me and I groan in satisfaction. This. This is what it's supposed to feel like. This is what no other man can give me.

I place both hands on his broad chest and set my pace. It's hard and fast. I fuck him. I fuck him the way I need to be fucked and I know it's more than that, but it's that too. Eventually I'll make him understand, there is a place for gentle love making and a place for fucking and sometimes I need it hard, fast, and dirty. I've change. He'll need to get used to it.

From the look of wild abandon on his face, I don't think it will be a tough adjustment to make. "Peeta, yes..." I cry, my hips bucking as i circle my hips.

"Fuck, Katniss. You are going to kill me," he stutters as his fingers dig in deeper. "Not gonna last."

"Me either," I croon. I can already feel my second orgasm approaching. "Come with me," I cry, my hips working over time as my nails bite into his chest. He grips me with all his strength and grunts in the most sexy husky voice I've ever heard, spilling himself inside me for the first time. And for the first time, I'm not disgusted by the sticky come I can already feel seeping from the lips where we are joined.

The throbbing of his cock within me sets me over the edge and I cry out as I clamp down hard on him, collapsing on his chest as my body can no longer hold me up.

I don't realize he's still gripping me until I feel his fingers let go from around my hips and hear the gasp from his lips. "Fuck, Katniss. I'm sorry!" he cries, and I'm confused. Not exactly the reaction I was going for.

I look up at him and see the remorse in his eyes. For a second I wonder if he regrets this. But wasn't it his idea to begin with. "Huh?" I ask inelegantly. He nods his head down to my hips and I follow his gaze. Fingerprint bruises have already blossomed there, and not from the Capitol.

They remind me of the ones I got there, but are so different. I wanted him to grip me tight. I wanted him to lose control. I wanted him rough and hard. "It's nothing," I assure him with a smile, but he doesn't look convinced.

"I'm no better than they are," I spit at me, moving me from his thighs and trying to get out of bed.

"Why not let me be the judge of that," I snap, pulling him back to me. "Don't bring _them_ into this bed with us. I loved every second of that. It's not bad when I want it," I explain. "I'm not made of glass. I won't break. I want you to lose control with me. I want all of it. So stop beating yourself up. You couldn't be like _them_ if you tried."

He sighs and seems to process what I've said. "I didn't use anything either," he admits.

"Not to worry. They gave me a shot in the Capitol to prevent pregnancy," I explain.

He relaxes a bit. "I hadn't intended on that. I only wanted to make you feel good."

"Peeta, you have to stop treating this like you are my personal orgasm machine," I laugh. "I want us to feed off each other. I want us to both enjoy everything. And you helped me so much this morning. I needed this. I needed to separate what they did to me from what I want to do with you."

He smiles then. "Fucking amazing, wasn't it?"

I can't help it, I grin in return. "Yep."


	13. Victory Tour

**A/N: My goodness! Sorry, y'all! I'm in the last stages of my pregnancy with baby number 2, and what with a toddler running around, baby brain, a bit of writer's block, and trying to get things squared away for our new addition, it was like pulling teeth to get this chapter finished. I hope you like it. We will be moving on to the Quarter Quell soon, so...drama is on the way. Enjoy! **

* * *

**Victory Tour**

Fuck. As grand as a month at home sounded in the Capitol, I had no idea how short it would actually be. But here I am, staring at the blood red writing on the rose scented note that President Snow seemed to always be able to get to me without anyone knowing how, I know my bubble has burst.

_Looking so forward to seeing you in The Capitol this week. You will be a busy woman. _

He didn't even bother signing it. He knows I know what it means. He also knows, considering this was delivered to _Peeta's_ bedside, that we are not as broken up as he would like. Still, he's said nothing of it, and I'm not going to tempt fate by bringing it up. Ever.

The speed of November is in no way a reflection of the ease of living in District 12 after what I've been through. There are looks. There are whispers, but Gale, Peeta, and Prim have glared most folks into submission. The Hob folk have, ironically, been more helpful than the Merchant stock. Though they've been hit hardest by The Capitol, what with Thread's arrival, and the overall lack of help they've received since - forever. It's the 'high society' of town that really hates me.

I'm a Seam rat. I'm a nothing. And here I am, bell of the ball in The Capitol. Not to mention, I have my suspicions that Mrs. Mellark has spread some unkind rumors. Peeta tells me to ignore it, and mostly I do. I don't need those people. The hardest thing to swallow is how my fellow Seam people look at me. Some with hate, some with confusion. Every last one of them looks at me like I'm no longer Katniss Everdeen though.

Am I? I can no longer hunt. I can no longer provide for them. And though I no longer need the food for my own family, I had hoped I could help others with my time now that I have so much on my hands. The Hawthornes are only making ends meet because Haymitch insisted (at my request) to hire on Hazelle to be his housekeeper. Essentially, it's a set up where he gets a clean house and regular company and she has enough money to feed, clothe, and keep her family warm. Gale hates it. He works at the mines anyway. I hate _that_.

My mother is another matter entirely. Her disapproval of me is tangible, but she says nothing. I shouldn't care. I've taken care of myself long enough now, I don't need her. Still, the discomfort of her obvious questions she doesn't dare ask weigh on me. I spend more time at Peeta's than anywhere.

We are inseparable, and sometimes I find myself wondering how I went so long denying this man. He's not perfect, by any stretch. He's loud when he clomps around the house. He has a tendency to snore if not in just the right position when he sleeps. He can be suffocating at times. He wakes at the crack of dawn most mornings to help his family at the bakery. But he's what I need. And he's mine. I don't want to think about a time when he won't be. Besides, I know I'm certainly not perfect. The issues I have are dark, twisted, and complex. But we have a happy comfort, and a fiery passion.

Still, the fact that we are leaving today for the Victory Tour twists my guts with anxiety. Haymitch has tried to prepare me for it, but still, the stylists, the buzz, the Capitol. If I'm honest, the part that bothers me most is that I'll be in the Capitol, with Peeta, expected to perform my duties. I shudder. As nice as it has been to be home, it's not made going back any easier. Bringing Peeta with me, I'm torn between being relieved to have him there and being terrified of how he will handle it.

"Are you almost ready?" Peeta asks from the doorway. I smile but I know it doesn't reach my eyes. I nod, flipping the latch on my trunk of sketches and samples from my 'fashion' collection. How anyone can possibly believe I have a stylish bone in my body, I don't know. But Cinna does a great job of dressing me, so I guess people don't think much about it. His designs are amazing. I really don't feel comfortable taking credit for them, but if I told the world my only current hobbies are fucking Peeta and being scared of the Capitol at all times, I think they'd be less than impressed.

"Yeah. Effie will be here any minute," I say. As if on cue, there is a hyper tapping at the door. Time to paste a smile and pretend everything is okay.

* * *

"Peeta, what the hell were you thinking!" I snap, my grip tight on the sink as the water in the shower runs, drowning out our conversation.

"I didn't know!" he counters. "I was just doing what's right."

"But I _told_ you Snow is after me. I told you we were all targets. You had to know offering Rue's family that food was a bad idea. You practically begged for a revolt!" I attack. Seeing that man, brains on the ground, dead...I have to blame someone. Peeta is the easiest target. I know that, still, I can't help myself. Peeta has to understand, he can't play with these people's lives.

"I did the right thing," he counters. "Are you so scared, you can't even see what's right?" His gaze is intense, and for a moment I'm taken aback. He looks at me with disappointment, and I don't know how to feel. I'm not trying to be strong. I'm not trying to be the face of a revolution. I just want to get through this so I can go home and be with my family. To keep the people I love safe.

"This isn't my fight. It isn't yours either," I say quietly.

"Why the hell not?!" he said, in a strained voice, but he's conscientious of the people who could be listening of the drum of the water hitting the shower floor. "What makes my life more important than that man's? What makes your family more worthy of saving than the hundreds of others who starve in the Seam. It isn't _right_ Katniss."

"You sound like Gale," I sigh, feeling uncomfortable with his questions.

"Well, perhaps we both have a point," he says. "They kill people. They starve people. They take from us and give nothing. They live in the lap of luxury while we scrape by. They use their victors in the most obscene ways. They don't deserve to rule. They don't deserve anything. And I'd think you'd understand that better than anyone."

He's right, of course. But fighting means sacrifice, and the only thing I'm willing to sacrifice is me. "Peeta, you just can't do things like this, unilaterally. You have to consider, you didn't make things better for anyone. Rue's family will probably be punished. A man is dead. And who knows what Snow will do to me. I don't want him to do it to you too."

He pulls me close and I rest my head on his chest. "I'll behave," he says. "I don't want him to hurt you." And now I know the way to keep him in line. I sigh thinking it's such a silly motivation.

Flipping the water off, we both leave to find Haymitch. He's not much happier with Peeta than I was.

* * *

I'm panting above him as I ride him hard and fast, the train speeding toward the Capitol at break neck speed. "Fuck!" Peeta pants as he grips my hips as I roll them against his. "Katniss, yes..." he hisses, his eyes heavily lidded as he looks up at me.

I moan as I feel the tingling heat build up in my body. I need this. The proximity of the Capitol is wearing on my nerves and as selfish as it is, having Peeta here to make me forget is exactly what I need. He knows. He understands. It's why he's stopped talking about rebellion. It's why he's behaved himself in every district since 11. And it's why he takes me to new heights of ecstasy every single night. Effie Trinket has no idea what to think, but Haymitch has kept her from saying anything about it.

"Come, baby..." Peeta growls as he runs his hand up and down my back and grips me tighter with the other.

"Close," I tell him, feeling his cock pulse inside me. I know he wants to explode. I do too. Almost...

"Peeta!" I cry, my body bucking harder and faster as my thighs clinch around his hips.

"God, Katniss..." He gasps for air as I feel him come inside me and I can't hold my body up anymore. His hands soothe me as I fall against his naked chest and feel our hearts beating against each other.

"I just want to stay here," I say quietly, knowing we only have a few hours before the harsh reality of what being in the Capitol means for me - for us.

"Mmm, me too," he says, his fingers still ghosting over my back.

"It's going to be harder this time," I say, voicing my concerns for the first time out loud. He just squeezes me tight. "You..."

"I'll be okay," he says. "I don't want to make this harder on you."

I sigh. Peeta has no idea how amazing he is, honestly.

* * *

We are back in the Tribute housing. Many old victors come in for the Victory Tour. For years I just assumed it was an excuse to escape the depression of their home districts. Now, I know better. Some of them, like Chaff and Haymitch, come every year to fight off loneliness. Most of us, though, most of us come because we have no choice. Cashmere is here, and Finnick. But they are not the only ones. No fewer than 10 other Victors have swarmed the dorms, just getting through their allotted time in the Capitol, waiting to get back home to the sanity of their districts. For the first time in my life, I realize being a Capitolite isn't as great as I thought it would be growing up. Human objectification isn't only for us Victors. A belief that we are all objects runs rampant. How sad a life that must be.

Effie excitedly shuffles us into our living space, explaining we must dress for dinner, and a note on my bed informs me that after the Victor's dinner at the President's house, I'll be busy with one Mr. Ashton Fingle. Fucking perfect.

I know this one, too. He's a smarmy bastard from the late night evening gossip show that I've caught a few times since moving into Victor's Village. He's attractive, and he knows it. In fact, he thinks he's far more attractive than he actually is. He makes my skin crawl. Sighing, I throw the note in the waste bin and move to the drawers that I know Cinna has already stocked for me.

I dress in skimpy undergarments and locate the dress Cinna has marked for the evening, pulling it on. I'm just grateful they've left me to do my own primping. After weeks of Cinna's instruction, I can paint my face with the best of them. I don't think I can handle my prep team now anyway.

There is a knock at my door and I call whoever it is to come in. Peeta enters with a nervous smile. He looks amazing. Though, I can tell he hasn't been as lucky as I. His prep team obviously had their way with him. "You look nice," I smile.

"You look beautiful," he says, though he doesn't smile. I can tell he knows why I'm wearing so much make up, and why my dress is so form fitting.

"Let's get this over with," I say with a brave smile of my own. "If we can get through dinner with Snow, we can get through anything."

He sort of grimaces but smiles, holding out his arm and I take it, letting him lead me down the hall to meet Effie.

* * *

My head is pounding. After introducing Peeta to Finnick, I felt like things might be okay. Both got on well, and at least there was a friendly face. I should have known better. Ten minutes after arrival, my presence was needed to mingle with every ridiculously wealthy man who'd bought a ticket to the event. Peeta was swept off in the other direction, and since we are considered "just friends" I had no choice by to act that way.

Hands on my skin make me want to cringe, but I smile and pout sexily and make them all think I adore the attention. God, I feel so disgusted with myself.

My eyes meet Peeta's several times, but I can tell he is trying to ignore me completely. It's for the best, really. It doesn't stop the stab of regret in my chest though. "Miss Everdeen," one man whispers into my ear, "tell me, what does it take to get just one moment of your time..."

I giggle like a moron, and reply in a low breathy voice, "Oh, I don't know," I say coyly. "I'm easy to _please._" He flushes and grins at me, squeezing my arm in a gesture that I'm sure means I'll be lying on my back underneath him soon enough.

I look up to locate Peeta again as the man leaves and find him speaking with President Snow, who is making his rounds before dinner. I bite my lip as I watch. Peeta can't say anything to put himself in harms way. If Snow thinks he's rebellious or will hinder his plans in any way, it could get him killed. Or he could end up like me. That's the last thing I want for the sweet, romantic heart of Peeta Mellark.

I speak with a few more men, constantly, looking up to see Peeta who has been left alone by the President, but stares, pensively into nothing. What did that man say?

When we sit to dinner, I lean over to Peeta and ask. "What did Snow say to you?"

"Not here," he replies, picking up his fork. I can tell it's not open for discussion so I nod and begin to eat. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

As we finish dinner, I know I have to leave. President Snow eyes me sternly and I nod, wiping my mouth gently and standing with the rest of the guests. "I'll be back late tonight," I tell Peeta.

He looks stricken, but he swallows and nods mechanically, his eyes saying more than he can aloud. It's almost enough to make me deny Snow what he wants. But I don't. I can't. At the end of the day, I am a slave to whatever President Snow wants. We both know that.

"Come on, Peeta," Finnick says, coming up behind us. "I've already been summoned today. Let's go have a drink in District 4's glorious bar." His grin is wide, but it doesn't reach his eyes and Peeta just nods mechanically letting Finnick lead him to the door.

I take a deep breath and head to the main entrance of the house where I know a car will pick me up, but before I can leave, a voice stops me. "Miss Everdeen," President Snow's drawl breathes. I turn around and find him staring at me curiously.

"President Snow," I say stiffly.

"There is very little you can hide from me," he says without preamble. "I know about you and Mr. Mellark carrying on. Do you think that's wise?"

"It hasn't affected my job here in the Capitol. We will not let anyone find out," I say carefully. If he takes Peeta from me, I don't know how I will go on. I will never make it through any of this without him.

"See that you don't," he says simply before turning on his heel and leaving me standing there, heart pounding in my chest. Taking a moment, I gather my wits and continue on my journey to the front of the President's house.

* * *

Mr. Fingle is rougher than one might imagine from his television persona. In fact, one would never guess that he has rape fantasies, or that it makes him incredibly hard to see a woman held down with his own hands as he fucks her. But he does.

My body is sore, and I'm only grateful that he only had the stamina for one 15 minute session before rolling off of me, and letting me go. It was short, well, the sex was. I was made to suffer through at least an hour of his yammering about all the awards he's won in 'journalism' before the sex started. Then of course he'd told me to 'fight him' as he tackled me to the bed, held my wrists above my head, and viciously pounded away at me.

I sigh with relief when I finally get into the elevator to lead me up to my room. To tell the truth, I don't really want to see Peeta right now. It's embarrassing to think of him seeing me like this, make-up smeared, limp to my step, lips bruised and red from forced kisses. But I also need him to know I'm okay. Perhaps a shower first and then I'll see if he's still awake.

I push the door to my room open and am shocked to find him there already. His eyes a bit bloodshot, and his chest bare, ready for sleep as he lounges in my bed. "Peeta," I say uselessly, my heart thumping in my chest. I hadn't been prepared for this.

"I wanted to be here..." he says. "I wanted you to know I'm here..."

I nod mechanically. "I need to shower." I say. It's the first thing I need.

"I know," Peeta says. "Finnick told me." I nod in understanding. I silently thank Finnick for telling him the things I can't. "I'll be here when you get out."

I nod again, moving silently into the bathroom where I turn the water on it's hottest setting and set about removing my soiled clothes. I step into the spray and wince as the hot water hits all the sore and raw parts of my skin. Ashton was rougher than I'd realized and my wrists were bruised and red along with portions of my thighs. From the feel, my back didn't escape unscathed either.

I take my time, both because I need to and because I have no idea what to do or say when I leave the confines of this room and face Peeta. It's one thing for him to know. It's something else for him to see the results first hand.

I finally leave the shower and wrap my hair in a towel before using another to dry myself. I look in the mirror, happy that at least my face is natural and fresh. This is me, even if the rest of my body feels unattached. Wrapping myself in a fluffy robe, I exit the room and take my place by Peeta on the bed.

"You didn't have to wait up," I finally say to cut through the uncomfortable silence.

"Yes, I did," he says, looking at me seriously.

There's another silence and I can see the wheels turning in his head. Finally, he sighs. "Tonight was the hardest night of my life."

I swallow, but say nothing. "And I know I should pretend it's not. I know that what you've been through is worse than me sitting here waiting for you to come home, but..."

He runs a hand through his hair ready to continue until he spots my wrists. "Katniss..."

"It's nothing," I say, moving my hands away form him, but he catches one in his own and gently touches the red, black, and blue marks on my flesh.

His eyes blaze at me, and I don't want to do this. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want his rage. I just want him to hold me and tell me it's okay.

"Did he force himself on you?" he asks, and I can tell if I were to tell him 'yes', Peeta would get himself killed trying to avenge me.

"No," I say shaking my head. "Some of them...Some just like to do it rough. More than rough, actually. They get off on it." I hear a growl low in his throat, and I sigh in frustration. "Please don't do this," I plead. "I have to live it. Don't make me revisit it now."

I can see him battle internally but he agrees. "That's something Finnick explained too," he says with a sigh. "In fact, I got quite an education from Finnick Odair."

I smile slightly at that. "I'm glad you got to talk to him. Somethings are hard for me to explain to you."

"I don't want to make this harder on you," Peeta finally says. "I just...Katniss, I'm in love with you. I love you so much it makes me feel insane on the inside. It's not the crush I had growing up. It's not the hopeful longing during the Games. I love you. And I know you don't feel the same way. Not yet, at least. But i know you feel something, and I just feel like when I let you do this, on your own, I'm offering you up as a sacrifice for my own comfort and safety."

My eyes well with tears, and I feel so overwhelmed with emotions. He'd never actually told me he loved me, though I'd suspected. Peeta is not hard to read, and he wears his emotions all over his sleeve. Love is such a hard thing for me to grasp. The only think I know of love is my parents. That kind of love left my mother devastated in his death. But I also know that what I feel for Peeta is more than just comfort and convenience. I could love him. I know.

But I can't deal with that now. Not here in the Capitol after everything I've been through tonight. I cup his cheek, and lean forward, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Peeta, please don't feel guilty. I'd be doing this even if it weren't for you. My family needs me to do this. And besides, if i can protect you, I will. You've protected me long enough. It's my turn now."

He whimpers in protest, but leans forward kissing me again. "I want to ask you something," I say, leaning our foreheads together. Because, honestly, I have to know. "What did Snow say to you tonight?"

He frowns. "Threats. He knows everything about us. He threatened to take you away if anyone ever found out about us."

I frown. "We have to be careful," I say. He just nods.

"Let's go to bed," I suggest. My body's tired and aching and I know I have another 'big, big day' tomorrow.


	14. The Monster's Den

**A/N: Okay, y'all. This chapter is intense, violent, and has a lot going on. You have been warned. While it's not an "enjoyable" chapter, I do hope you will like the direction I'm taking the story. LEt me know what you think. :)**

* * *

**The Monster's Den**

The next two days are torturous, but short. I know Peeta is leaving and I'm not following. Not until my 'time' is served to President Snow. The idea of losing him makes my heart stop in my chest, but at least Haymitch will stay to do the job I've been telling the people of District 12 I've been doing - lining up sponsors for the next games. As strange as it might seem, he's pretty damn comforting to be around. He doesn't say anything and he never looks at me with pity. I know Peeta cannot help himself.

"When you come back tonight, let's do something fun," Peeta suggests, running a finger along my collar bone, as I apply my make-up in the bathroom mirror. I smile slightly and nod.

"That sounds nice," I say. "How about the roof?"

"Deal," Peeta says, his million dollar smile lighting up the whole room. He's gotten so much better at avoiding the prohibited topic of my 'work'. He controls himself and when I come home, he lets me shower and relax before wrapping me in his arms and just being there. The only thing he can do. But I can feel the burn simmering below the surface. I know it's best that he goes back to District 12. He's holding onto the only control he has and if it were to ever blow over, he'd be dead. I never, in my life, thought I'd have to compare Gale and Peeta, but their fire is unmatched. Not even by me, and I have plenty to be angry about.

I get ready with him watching me, smiling up at him every once in a while, still surprised at how he looks at me like I'm magical to him. How can he see the old me when all I see is the Capitol whore, used and abused by faceless men on a nightly basis? But he does. I can tell, he sees me. Katniss. The girl who sells his father squirrel and who never had much time for femininity, though now I wear the finest clothes, jewels, and make-up. It makes me feel warm inside knowing he still sees what will never be there again.

"I've got to go," I finally say, smoothing down the dress I've poured myself into. I know nothing about the guy I'm seeing tonight. I only have a name. Dr. Kern Spottiswoode. I shiver. Best just to get this over with.

* * *

"What a Victor you are now," he sneers at me, and I tremble in fear and pain. It didn't take more than five minutes of my being in Spottiswoode's basement that I knew this would not go like the rest of my 'jobs'.

I'm naked, chained to a metal slab, cold against my back, with various cuts, bruises, and lesions covering me from head to toe. It seems my 'date' tonight is a Capitol doctor with a thirst for my blood. I try to swallow but my tongue feels ten sizes too large. He wields his scalpel over my body and I just want to die quickly. The pain is enough. It's clear where this is headed, and I just want it finished. I'm tired.

"Let's see what this Victor of District 12 is made of, hmmm?" He says again. How can such an unhinged man practice medicine? He's standing before me naked, from when he forced himself upon me twice already, and has an evil glint in his eyes. I'm sure I'll die in this room. Will anyone ever find me? Will they know the truth? Or will Snow cover it up? I must be delusional if I think Snow would ever let _this_ get out. Not the perversions of one of his precious benefactors.

I try to hold on to what Finnick told me about abusive 'dates' but all I have the strength to do at the moment is stay awake. I'm not going to die without fighting. The scalpel slices across my stomach and I can't hold on any longer. I scream as everything goes black.

* * *

When I crack my eyes open I realize I'm no longer in the basement. I'm propped against the door of the President's escort car, wrapped in a black robe, and in so much pain I wish I would pass out again.

I have no idea how long I was passed out, or how I got out of the hell I was trapped in, but I did, and I'm alive, and I'm headed toward the Tribute center. Peeta. Oh God. I feel like retching. I have no idea what time it is, or how worried he must be, but I do know if he sees me like this, he'll do something stupid for sure.

I groan as the car goes over a bump and notice the sickened look on the face of the driver. Almost as if he has a conscience. Then again, he picks up and drops off President Snow's sex slaves, so my sympathy for him is little. Especially in the state I currently find myself in.

When we get to the Center, I open the car door and nearly fall out, not realizing how much of my weight the door was actually holding up. On shaky legs I finally am able to stand, though I can feel searing pain radiating from my abdomen and I want to vomit. The place is completely empty. It must be very late.

On my own I drag myself to the elevator and press the number '4', not knowing who else to turn to. Finnick should be alone. He's the only Victor from 4 in town, and he doesn't need a Capitol escort any longer. I pray to an unknown God that he's there.

The dinging of the elevator sounds loud in my head and I push off the back wall of the lift letting that momentum push me toward the living quarters of District 4 tributes. I'm barely hanging on. I can feel the haze closing in. 'FINNICK!" I cry, my voice raw, but loud as I drop to my knees in the center of the TV room.

"Katniss?" his hysterical voice cries, as I hear him from my right. His arms wrap tightly around me and I yelp in pain.

"Oh fuck, Katniss, what happened to you?" he breathes, lifting the material of the robe that covers me. His gasp is soul splitting. I must look as bad as I feel.

"Help me," I cry, clinging to his sleeve as he pulls back. "I can't go to Peeta. Please, Finnick, help me!"

I can see in his eyes that he's horrified, scared, and has no idea what to do, but he nods, taking me by the arms and lifting me to my feet. He gingerly leads me to his bedroom where he places me on the bed before running me a bath. I can hear him shuffling around in the cabinets, pouring things into the water and looking for any medical supplies that might be there.

"Damnit!" he cries in frustration, knocking something over, I don't know what. My head is hazy will and I just want the pain to stop.

"Come on, Katniss," he says, standing in front of me, and I wonder if I've zoned out. He seems a bit calmer now. He pulls the tie of my robe open and tries desperately to look anywhere but at my broken and naked body as he leads me to the bathroom. I step into the large tub and feel the soothing affect of painkiller in the water. It's enough to make my sigh with relief.

"I have to go find medicine," Finnick tells me. "Please don't pass out or fall asleep in here, Katniss. I'll be back as soon as I can." I nod absently, reveling in the feel of the drugs in the water taking over.

He darts from the room and I take a few deep breaths. Now that the pain is less, I allow myself to take in my own body, making out the severity of my injuries. I know I have a split lip and black eye. I can feel it swelling shut. From there, there are deep, dark bruises on my arms, thighs, and wrists from where he held me down and chained me to the metal slab.

I think my right index finger is broken. It's sticking out at an odd angle and I shiver with disgust as I look at it. Beyond that, the most damage was done with the scalpel. There are mild cuts up and down my legs and arms, but the real issue is my stomach. It's as if he tried to perform surgery on me. There is a long, angry red cut across the entirety of my lower abdomen. He's closed it. He's cleaned up after himself. He's a doctor. But the pain is intense, and I can't help the panic that arises in me when I consider what he might have done to me? Removed an organ? Implanted something inside me? I haven't a clue, and the panic is enough to send me into near hysterics.

Oh god. He was an absolute and total psycho. There is no doubt he's done something irreversible to me. I'm beginning to feel my throat close when I hear a commotion from somewhere in the suite. "Finnick," I call, but my voice is barely above a whisper as my panic takes over.

It's not Finnick who bursts into the bathroom, though. It's Peeta...followed by a disheveled Haymitch. Damnit, Finnick should know they are the last people I want to see me like this.

"Peeta, I'm fine," I say quickly, hunching over so he cannot see the front of me. I should have realized the back isn't much better. His breath catches and he doesn't move.

"Fuck," Haymitch mutters and I could kill Finnick. He was supposed to help, not invite an audience. This is going to be an absolute nightmare.

Speak of the Devil. "I told you to wait for me," Finnick grumbles, agitated as he pushes his way into the bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing, Finnick!" I cry, tears collecting in my eyes. I feel paniced, hopeless, and helpless.

"Before you scream at me, you have to know I had no choice but to tell Haymitch. He can get the medical supplies we need. And Peeta, well, he was there..." Finnick said. "Besides, he was going to find out anyway."

Peeta huffs in frustration as he moves toward me. "When are you going to stop treating me like a child?" he asks, his tone soft. "Why would you hide this from me?"

I can't say anything. Nothing comes out but choked sobs as Peeta makes his way the the side of the tub and pulls me into his arms, not caring at all that I'm dripping all over his clothes.

"I hate to break this up," Haymitch says gruffly, "but I do actually need to see what kind of damage has been done."

Peeta growls at our mentor for his lack of sensitivity, but I find it oddly refreshing. "Here," he says, grabbing a fluffy towel and holding it out to me. I let him wrap me up in it and guide me back to Finnick's room. I can feel the painkillers dissipating already. God, will this pain ever end?

"Lie back, sweetheart," Haymitch instructs, and for the first time, the term of endearment doesn't sound sarcastic. Clutching Peeta's hand, I do as I'm told and unwrap the towel from around me with my free hand. My hands are trembling and I feel light headed again.

"Fuck, Katniss..." Peeta hisses, and I feel him grip my hand tighter. I roll my head to the side so I don't have to look at any of them. I feel Haymitch gently prodding my skin until he hits my lower stomach and I jerk away in pain.

"Damnit," he mutters. "I'm going to have to call someone," he says, turning to Finnick. "I don't know what he did to her, but it could be serious. We need a real doctor."

I feel my breath speeding up as my begin to hyperventilate. "Shhh, Katniss, look at me," Peeta says, but he sounds like he's in a tunnel. My nails dig in his arms until I go slack and blackness takes over me again.

* * *

In and out of consciousness, I can't make any sense of what's going on around me. I'm in a white room, then I'm in a dark room. I'm on a hard surface. I'm on a soft bed. Voices. Always voices, but they are garbled and I feel like I'm weightless. I'm not here. I'm tired...

* * *

"How the hell do you expect me to leave now?" I hear Peeta's voice shout, pulling me from the abyss of my own mind.

"You can't help her by staying here, and you have no choice!" That's Haymitch for sure.

"After what they did to her, they can't possibly expect her to..."

"You have no idea what they expect," Haymitch spits out cutting off Peeta. I've no idea what they are arguing about, but I feel that it's about me, so I at least should do my best to stop it.

"Peeta..." I call, but my voice is like sandpaper. My mouth is dry and it feels like I haven't used my voice in a long time.

I open my eyes to see his dart to mine. "Katniss," he cries, his voice loud to my ears and I wince at the ache in my head.

"What happened?" I ask, looking from him to Haymitch who's scowling by the door of my bedroom in the tribute center. "Is Finnick still here?"

"He is," Haymitch says. "He'll be here a few weeks." I nod woodenly.

"So, what happened?" I ask again. "I feel so tired. How long was I out?"

"A full day," Peeta answers softly, sitting next to me and gripping my hand tightly. I can see tears in his eyes and I begin to panic again.

"What? What is it?" I ask, looking at Haymitch. I know he'll tell me the truth.

He sighs and makes his way to the bed and sits on my other side. "That doctor you were with...he was a sick fuck," Haymitch says.

"I knew that," I pointed out. "What did he do to me," I ask, knowing that my worst fears must have been true.

"He cut out your ovaries," Haymitch finally said. "He basically rendered you infertile."

I hear Peeta take a shaky breath and look back at him. I'm not certain how I feel, but I know I feel something...strong. I never wanted children. I never planned to have them. I still don't want them. But I see in Peeta's eyes the lost opportunity that _he_'d been dreaming about, and I feel a bit angry on his behalf. More than anything I feel violated. Regardless of my stance on children, it was not that bastard's right to deny me the choice. In our world, whether you have children or not is one of the only things you _can_ choose.

I look down at my body. I'm covered by a nightgown. Lifting it up I take in my nearly flawless skin. The Capitol doctors must have worked miracles to have patched me up in so little time. There's a faint scar on my stomach, but everything else is gone. I feel nothing but the pounding of my head, probably a symptom of my meds fading.

"Oh God," I cry, as it hits me. I've been cut into, had some of my organs removed. I could have died. So much worse could have happened, but this is bad enough. Who could do something like that? Who would want to? What the hell is wrong with these people?

Peeta pulls me close and I sob into his chest as Haymitch keeps silent vigil on my other side.

"Shhh, Katniss, everything will be okay. I'll make this okay..." Peeta whispers to me. And I know he can't. He can't make anything okay, but I know he desperately wants to, and for now, it's the only thing holding me together.

"Wh-what happened to the doctor?" I ask as I try to calm myself down. Peeta's arms tighten around me and I hear him growl in frustration.

"He was forced to pay President Snow to damaging you," Haymitch says emotionlessly. If I didn't know him better, i'd be offended. But I know, this is affecting him. He'll be face deep in the bottle once he catches me up. That I'm certain of. "Other than that, what can he do? What would he care?"

"You are never doing this again," Peeta says with conviction and I hear Haymitch scoff. It's true, I have no choice. Peeta should understand this by now.

"He's giving you two nights off, then it's back to work, Sweetheart." Haymitch says, his mouth downturned into a hideous frown. "And Peeta's got to return to District 12."

That part hits me harder than the fact that I am expected to fuck some man only days after having my ovaries cut out. I knew he'd have to leave, but fuck, I want him to stay. "When?" I ask, my voice as level as I can make it.

"Two hours," Peeta says. "I can't leave you..."

"You have to," I say, looking up at him. "You have to. I'll be fine."

"Stop it," he says, his voice harsh. "You are not fine, and you will not _be_ fine." Peeta gets up and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. "I can't let this go on any longer. Not like this." He's out the door before I can even move to stop him, and my panicked eyes go to Haymitch.

"Stop him!" I cry. "He's going to get himself killed."

Haymitch looks at me for a long moment before nodding and following Peeta out the door. My heart is racing again, only this time it has nothing to do with me. I just _know_ Peeta's going to do something to get himself killed, and then I'll be next to go. I can't do this alone.

* * *

Finnick had to force the sleeping syrup on me. I was not about to fall asleep when Haymitch returned to tell me Peeta was already gone. Probably dead considering you are not technically allowed to leave the Tribute Center without escort. Effie is in a fit, though she's mostly pretended to have herself together for my sake. When I was rushed to surgery she finally became aware of my 'duties' to the Capitol. I can tell she is not impressed with the President either, which is quite a big deal for her. She's never had to question her government before.

When I finally wake up, though, I can hear Finnick speaking to someone beyond my room, and I shift up onto my elbows, trying to make out what's being said.

"You don't have a lot of time. We had time to prepare Katniss, but it's...I'll give it to you quick. The basics..." Finnick said. There was a grunt of acceptance and then they moved down the hall where I couldn't hear the conversation. Biting my lip, I consider getting out of bed. I feel stiff, but my body is fine now, and I have to know what is happening. Have they found Peeta?

My legs are stiff, but I'm able to hold my weight, and I slowly make my way to the door where I can see Finnick at the end of the hall talking to...Peeta. "Peeta!" I cry, tears pricking my eyes as I feel such extreme relief. "Peeta, what the hell were you thinking?" I cry again, leaning against the wall as they both rush toward me.

"Get back into bed, Katniss," Peeta admonishes.

"No! Tell me what you were thinking running out of here. Shouldn't you be on the train? What happened?" I ask quickly, looking him over for injury. I notice Finnick purse his lips, but he says nothing as he helps Peeta push me back into my room and into a seated position on my bed.

"Are you going to stare at me, or are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" I finally ask, crossing my arms like a child over my chest.

They exchange a look and I want to scream, but luckily Peeta begins speaking. "I went to see President Snow. Nearly was killed for my efforts, but luckily he was curious as to what I had to say."

"Peeta!" I screech. "What the hell were you thinking!"

"I was thinking that the woman I love was sold off to a butcher who violated her. I was thinking that twenty-four hours ago, I was sure you'd be dead!" he shouted right back, his hands trembling as they clutched at my arms. "He was going to force you to go back to that, right after...And you've lost so much. I wasn't going to watch you lose any more."

"You really think you have any control," I snap. I don't care that Snow is listening, or that Peeta is being incredibly romantic. Romance means nothing to me. Not if he's going to get himself killed while chasing it.

"I made a deal with him," he says.

I feel dread pooling in my stomach. "What kind of deal?" I ask, looking into his eyes. But I know what he's going to say even before he does. Stupid fucking Peeta.

"I'm taking your place. My first 'date' is tonight," he says.


End file.
